Elegant Simplicity

May 7, 2020
In elegant simplicity lies the beauty of living: attention, focused, intimately aware of the present moment and its happenings.  Conscious motion, self-reflection, deep contemplation, mindfulness, the ever-present witnessing of one’s own existence.
Permanence within impermanence, the fleeting crossing-the-screen of what is.  A diamond in the rough, surrounded by coal.  Magic.  Music.  Romance.

That upon which attention is focused becomes the focus of attention.  The more focused the attention, the greater the quality of the experience.  The more quality, the more awareness.  The more awareness, the more elegance.  The more awareness, the more simplicity.

Sublime life energy turns into experience.    Richness follows, then poverty, then richness again.  The corpse becomes living, and then dies again, only to revive and live.  All focused, elegant, simple, happening.

A dancer doing a pirouette.  A skater lifting another on ice.  Boxers dodging, weaving.  A director’s eye for the light.  The teacher honing his craft.  A doctor checking for disease.  Fishermen, fishing.  Elegance.  Simplicity.  Focus.  Awareness.

Waiting for the buck to clear the brush.  Breathing lover’s tender breath.  Coaxing off a rusted bolt.  Crying in the hopeless night.  Intensity.  Focus.  Simplicity.  Totality.

In timeless moments of depth and brevity, self is lost in experiencing the moment.  Torture.  Pain.  Heartbreak. Terror.  Amazement.  Astonishment.  Revelation.  Complete and simple.  Full.  Elegant and total.

Wind bristling leaves.  Waves lapping rocks.  Painters painting paintings.  Sacred geometry.  Elegance.  Simplicity.

The stuff of life: total moments, complete experiences, full happenings, perfect executions.  Elegant simplicity.

Written on May 6, 2013 and freshly formatted on May 6, 2020.

Why We Contain the Universe

July 17, 2017

The deeper we go within, into the depths of our own Consciousness and Psyche, the more we withdraw our attention from the outside world.  The farther within that we dig, the less influence the outside world has on us.

This can be, and I think usually is, a sign of insight and depth of vision.

As insight deepens, consciousness “shrinks”: its focus is more toward the center of one’s being, and the outer “edges” of awareness tend to shrink (or expand) with the range of focus of one’s attention.

It’s not easy to find the center at first.  It’s underneath “stuff”: the burden of unresolved past painful experience and the fuzziness of things we “learned” that aren’t really true.

The burden is called “negativity.”

The fuzziness is called “wrong beliefs.”

Together, negativity and wrong beliefs are called the “ego” or the “false self.”

Negativity and wrong beliefs are also the substance of which attachments are made.

Ego and attachments cause consciousness to be focused on the “surface” of awareness, where Soul and Matter meet to form “flesh”–that is, the body and its needs, desires, and sensations.

Someone deeply asleep in the darkness of ego is deeply identified with the body.

The bodily identity is called the “(surface) personality.”  It consists of bodily characteristics, innate personal qualities, urges, and a name and mailing address.  It also has a social group, usually a family.

The personality is temporary and constantly changing in accordance with experience.

Experience happens on the outside, in the collective dream-reality of society and sensation.  Experience registers on the inside, at the center of one’s consciousness.

The center goes all the way “in” (or “up”), to a more collective or shared version of consciousness.  The collective or shared consciousness at the center of (one’s personal) consciousness is cause, and the outer world of experience is effect.

A “point of consciousness” is a self-aware, aware, or semi-aware being (or object).  A human or dolphin is self-aware.  A dog or amoeba is aware.  An enzyme or atom is semi-aware.

All points of consciousness are “connected to” this central-consciousness database through their own centers of consciousness.  All points of consciousness are points of exchange of information between the inner center of consciousness and the outer world of experience.

What is exchanged is–and must be–information from other points of consciousness, including thoughts and sensations.

This means that when I (consciousness) look out my eyes into another set of eyes, consciousness is seeing itself–from both sides of the interaction.

In every interaction, something is shared.  This “something” is recorded in the centers of consciousness that are present in the interaction.

All the information collected and stored in the ultimate center of every center of consciousness equals the sum total of everything that has ever been experienced in the history of existence.

As experience becomes more complex, there are more unique situations and opportunities for interaction to happen and be “recorded” in the central center of consciousness.  This is one purpose of Existence: to provide a vast array of different kinds of experience.

We can accurately say that the central center of consciousness “knows all.”  A lot of people call this central center of consciousness “God.”

Since it is causative to everything that happens, has ever happened, or ever will happen, it is.  Since it knows all, it is.  Since it is everywhere all at once, it is.  Since it “can do anything” (because it DOES everything), it is.

Right there in the center.  Small as a mustard seed, small as a grain of sand.  Like a tiny candle flame that ever (not “never”) changes but is static.

This tiny center within us and everything else is enormously huge.  After all, it caused and causes everything.

It is everywhere, in everything, unable to be scraped off or squeezed out of anything.

Unable to be sliced in half.

It is huger and grander than the universe we can see or know.  It contains the universe.  The universe exists within it, surrounded and penetrated by it.

It it, we live and move and have our being.  Literally!

And it’s all there, sitting quietly and patiently, being unaffected, always, free for the taking, hidden but accessible.  Inside you.

God. In you.

THIS is why there’s a Golden Rule.  Jesus understood.  Do unto others…because they ARE you.


(“The divinity in me bows to the divinity in you.”)

Written on July 17, 2010, and freshly edited on July 17, 2017

“To know why is to be free” and other thoughts

April 2, 2017

A square peg doesn’t fit into a round hole. Oil and water do not mix. Magnets don’t stick to wood. Light and darkness cannot exist at the same time.

Life is hard enough without adding unnecessary burdens to an already heavy load. Lightening someone’s load means someone else carrying more weight. Some things are meant to be easy; if they’re difficult, that’s a sign that something is amiss. Life teaches what those things are.

People are like billiard balls, bouncing off each other and changing each other’s direction. They cannot move in a straight line for long. To stop, or to fall into a pocket, removes one from the game–and yet the game continues. “There can be only one” is just a line from a movie, a misunderstanding if taken as reality.

Streamline. Keep it simple, stupid. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Simplify. Take it easy. Don’t let that which matters most drown in the puddle of that which matters not. Much matters not…or much matters. It’s your choice.

I want you to be a certain way. Thus, I begin the race a loser. You want me to be different. Thus, you admit that you don’t like who I am. I can take you, or I can leave you. It’s my choice: whether right or wrong, it’s my choice. Take away choice and what’s left? Right? Wrong.

People aren’t perfect, and yet they are. We all fall short, and yet we’re all on the way to where we’re going…and we’re all exactly where we’re at. We cannot be otherwise; to demand such is to inflict folly on ourselves. Too much folly and truth disappears, covered by dark clouds and causing darkness. And yet this is temporary.

Give up? Give in? Give back? Give out? Give off? No. Just give.

Craziness is feeling without reason. Coldness is reason without feeling. Death is neither reason nor feeling. Life is reason with feeling. Both are necessary; to own one without the other is to live only half a life, all the time. At best.

It’s better to laugh than to cry, sometimes. And sometimes it’s better to cry. It’s best to know why. Prisoners do not, nor do children. This is fine for prisoners and children, but not for adults who are free. To know why is to be free.

Friends make mistakes. They are people, too. To demand perfection from friends is to condemn them. To forgive them is to love them–to be a friend yourself. Some friends are worth it, and others are not. Do you know which is which?

Happiness is not rocket science. Do what you like to do. Think about what you want. Then, do that. If you find yourself doing what you don’t want, do something else. Make a plan if you have to. Being scared is okay.

Life is not easy, but it can be. Life is pain sometimes. Life is joy sometimes. The more we see, the more life is joy. The more blind we are, the more life is pain. Sometimes pain is necessary. Sometimes pain leads to joy. Sometimes pain leads to death.

Those who truly love you are few. Cherish them. Human beings are not cheap, but often bring deep rewards. Look into people as deeply as you can. People are full of meaning…and shit. More of one means less of the other. Know how to tell the difference. Then, use this gift.

Treading water gets you nowhere. Dive deep. There are treasures to be found beneath the surface. It gets easier with practice. Stay on the surface if you want to stay impoverished.

To be afraid to dive deep is to be afraid of yourself. Woe unto those who fear themselves, for they fear the greatest gift, the richest treasure, the most bountiful harvest. They will not find it “out there.” The kingdom is “in here.”

There is great power in words, in feelings, in decisions. Would you give a gun to a toddler? Learn to use your words, feelings, and decisions rightly. What goes out also comes back. Life is like a boomerang, a rubber band, a bungee cord. Be careful what you say. Know why you feel. Decide to be right.

What is right? I can’t answer that for you. But you can.

What does Life want you to do? You’re doing it NOW.

(Written on March 31, 2012)

The Power of Personal Responsibility

March 15, 2017

“With great power comes great responsibility.” –Unknown

“With great responsibility comes great power.” –Ven

What’s the difference between a victim of circumstances and an overcomer of them?

Responsibility. Personal responsibility. The victim avoids owning up to his or her contribution to an experience, but the overcomer does not. An overcomer not only “owns up to,” but also owns his or her experiences, rather than attempting to avoid responsibility for them.

It may well be that the person in question had little or nothing to do with the actions that led immediately to the painful event. It may be that the person was an “innocent bystander.”

No matter what the circumstances were–however little you think you had to do with the event–you will never be able to get over it and move on until you realize and accept your own responsibility to deal with the reality of it: its results, the broken pieces, the outcome.

A man standing on a curb who gets wiped out by a speeding car might not have caused the accident (although he was, after all, standing by the road), but he now has to deal with the results of the accident: the injury. No one’s body can heal but his own. No person can feel the agony but himself. He might try to avoid the pain and ignore the injury–maybe by overusing addictive drugs–but in the end, if he wants to heal as well and completely as possible, he will have to take responsibility for his own recovery.

Responsibility brings power. Avoiding responsibility brings victimhood (lack of power).

Why is “power” important, in the sense that I’m using it here?

Power is the difference between a victim of life and an overcomer of life. Power, in this sense, doesn’t mean the Naricssistic ability to harm or control others. It doesn’t mean the stoic ability to not let life affect you in negative ways. POWER means the ability to roll with the punches of life without getting stuck or bogged down in its frequent difficult situations.

Like Mark Twain said,

“Life is just one damn thing after another.”

What shall the “damn things” of life do to you? Shall they make you or shall they break you? Will you rise and accept and learn and grow from (even unwanted) experiences, or will you cower and succumb to their undying onslaught?

Aside from those situations when we seem to be innocent victims of circumstance, as adults we are perhaps far more often participants in the creation of situations that cause us to suffer. It’s very common among us (and even acceptable!) to shift blame (to deny or avoid responsibility).

“What, you’re 40 and you can’t read? Can’t swim? Can’t play music? Aw, fie on those foul fiends who have done you harm for no reason! You can never be better! You can never learn! You can never grow! You have to suffer NOW because of something somebody else did to you long ago. You are doomed to bear it for all your days; you must wait for someone else to free you from your pain; you cannot unburden yourself because you didn’t put the load there.”

Bullshit. We all have the power to unload pain from past experiences. We might not have placed the load there, but we certainly have the ability to remove it from our own shoulders. More often than not, we did help to create the circumstances that put the load there–but even when we didn’t, if we want to heal we have to act as though we DID.

We can pretend not to have responsibility for our own lives, but that doesn’t relieve us of having to live the consequences of our experiences anyway.

We are the ones living our lives. We are powerful, whether we know it or not. But our power is hidden, blunted, sabotaged. We are blind to what we are missing. We cannot see that we have to own our experiences if we wish to move on and live better. This gives us back our power–or, rather, it lets us see the power we already have but have been denying to ourselves.

We have to accept responsibility for our part in creating our experiences, and for the consequences of events that befall us–ALL of them. This is the only way not to be a victim of life, in life, for life.

Gnosis and the Entanglement of Soul in the Flesh

December 24, 2016

Entanglement. That’s a good way to describe the human soul’s brief yet seemingly long stay on this warm, wet rock we call “Earth.”

Entanglement by choice, I would say, though I have no proof of this to offer. Just my own experience.

Without a body, the soul is light and free, attached to nothing–at least not in the way that we in the flesh become “attached” during our stay in this physical world. How do I know this? Because I experience it when I dream: living without a (physical) body.

The soul may well be a “body,” but not physical in its substance. The flesh we occupy here on Earth may be an imitation of that wispy form that leaves when we die, or when we dream at night, and which sometimes haunts dark corners and empty houses in the wee hours.

The soul is the cookie cutter and the body is the cookie.

It’s hard to put chains on something that isn’t physical, like the soul. That’s why Thoreau said that even though he was jailed for not paying his poll tax, he was nevertheless free. He identified with his soul more than his body.

This means, by the way, that Thoreau had the “gnosis” for which many have suffered and died at the hands of religious authorities. Luckily for him, he lived in the USA, product of the Enlightenment, under laws that came from that enlightened viewpoint.

Enlightenment and gnosis are the same thing: realization that one is not one’s body, and that life is therefore much grander and at the same time less stressful and serious than one previously thought. It is the realization of the soul.

That soul is you, and me, and the religious authorities, and the dog that gave my cats fleas, and my cats, and the fleas, and the grass in which they live now. It is each one, and every one, depending on how you look at it.

That soul, here on Earth, is wrapped up–entangled–in energy that we can detect as waves and particles, atoms and molecules, cells and fluid. And bone.

By choice? Some say so. I think so, but I have no proof. That’s okay, because in things of the soul proof is moot. You know, or you don’t know. Knowing is gnosis. Not knowing is agnosis, no matter what the agnostic person chooses to think or say about the matter.

Agnosis can appear to be atheism, or secularism, or religious fundamentalism. Agnosis is “not knowing,” which is the state of most of us here in this tangled world of flesh. Agnosis is being tangled and not knowing it. Gnosis is knowing one’s entanglement, and (maybe) becoming untangled.

This is why monks came about. Untanglement.

Monkishness, though, is an attempt to escape from the world, if it’s pursued beyond its initial intention of separating oneself from the entanglement of others (who are also without gnosis) in order to gain gnosis. If pursued in itself, monkishness becomes a cocoon, like playing video games or snorting meth or reading fiction–a way to try to forget one’s own entanglement here.

Trying to forget one’s entanglement is the opposite of gnosis. Gnosis is awareness, not forgetting.

The point, then, is not to be untangled, but to know one’s entanglement, to see it clearly. This is not pleasant. But it means becoming aware of both of our natures: the body and the soul. The eidolon and the daemon, as some early Christians called them, respectively.

What one chooses to do with that gnosis is up to that person, which means that it’s up to the soul, the “Higher Self,” the Real You. One sign of gnosis is obedience to that inner Self, whose directions are not always pleasant.

After all, gnosis or agnosis, we’re all still entangled here in the flesh.

(Written on August 16, 2011 and freshly edited on December 24, 2016)

Neural Connections and Unlearning

November 16, 2011

The brain is often seen—mostly incorrectly—as having a short period of learning ability that ends early in life, never to be revisited. Although this circumstance is functionally the case at the present time in our culture, in reality the human brain is an incredibly flexible piece of hardware. As such, it can unlearn previously learned information as easily as it learns new things. (Indeed, how is something truly “learned” if it can be replaced by more true or valid information in the future?).

To “learn” (whether the information learned is true or false) is to make neural connections in the brain and therefore to crystallize patterns of perception and thought. Learning to unlearn, as well as learn, might be the brain-exercise needed to ward off conditions, such as Alzheimer’s disease, which seem to result from mental rigidity and crystallized neural connections.

In other words, being closed to new ideas or ways of thinking makes us at greater risk for such conditions, and learning to break free of old habitual patterns—learning to unlearn—can help us to reduce our risk of them.

We each have a mind that is expressed through its physical counterpart, the brain. The brain’s configuration, seen (in one way) as connections between brain cells, is the physical representation of the non-physical contents of our mind. When we are born, many of these neural connections aren’t there yet; they’re made as we encounter life experience, and reinforced when new experience jibes with old experience—or, more correctly, when we believe that the new experience jibes with the old experience, whether it really does or not!

If we allow it, fear produces in the mind an incorrect idea about the reality we encounter, solidifying this idea through new connections in our brain chemistry and making it part of our conception of the world and our place in it. As always, the power of the mind to cause our experience is demonstrated—for our own betterment or detriment.

This doesn’t make us quite a “blank slate” as psychology used to teach, though. Our physical container (genetic makeup) determines our tendencies, potentials, talents, and creative abilities, which are brought forth to a greater or lesser degree in our lives through the shaping-force of our experiences. We are “nature” plus “nurture”: biology plus experience, or brain plus neural connections.

When we say that “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” we’re saying that an older person’s neurons are linked together in a certain way that keeps him or her from learning anything new or different. This old saying isn’t true, though, even if you can see evidence of it at every turn. Contrary to popular thought (“common sense”), information can also be unlearned. To unlearn is to undo these neural connections, making them available for use in a new and better way.

To unlearn is to allow the possibility that we are wrong in some way, and to explore other possible ways of looking at the world. Unlearning is the way to freedom! Through it, our misconceptions are identified and corrected. Unlearning frees the mind, breaking patterns of neural communication and therefore automatic thought.

Unlearning is what I call “revolutionary spirituality.” The more supple and flexible the body/brain is (by remaining open to new understanding and experience), the more open the link is between the body/brain and the mind/spirit. Thus, what we call the “spiritual path” naturally leads to a healthier brain! It leads to a reduced risk of unhealthy brain conditions that can result from the crystallization of these brain-connections.

To take care of your brain is to take care of the rest of you—in every way—and the best way to take care of your brain is to clear out any incorrect perceptions you have about yourself and the reality you encounter: to unlearn!

Me and My Corpse

October 30, 2011

I drag my corpse around for most of the day.  For some of every day, though, I leave it to rest.

My corpse is heavy, more or less, especially compared to me, my self.  Sometimes it’s heavier and sometimes it’s less heavy.  Nobody’s corpse is really light.

My corpse is fun, at times.  At other times it’s a burden.  It depends on where I’m dragging it, and why.  I can usually take it where I want to go, but sometimes I can’t.  Or I believe I can’t (which often means that I can’t).

I share my corpse with others sometimes.  Other people can enjoy it, too—but only from the outside in.  I’m the only one who enjoys my corpse from the inside out.

My corpse is mine, for now, until I turn it back in…to the dirt and water from which it came.  What happens to it after that is not up to me, nor does it matter to me.  My corpse is only mine while I possess it.

Possession, they say, is nine-tenths of the law.  What is to own but to have, and to use as you wish?  And so I own my corpse, until it wears out.  Then I return it.

Sometimes my corpse takes a beating and I have to drag it to safety, to rest.  A corpse has only so much energy, and it needs to be recharged sometimes.  I can recharge it alone pretty well.

I also recharge it by putting fuel into it.  A corpse is like a rechargeable battery that can be used, depleted, recharged, and eventually discharged completely.  No amount of fuel can prevent this depletion, and giving the corpse too much fuel will only wear it out faster.

My corpse likes to play with other corpses—or, rather, I like to take my corpse to play with others, through their corpses.  A corpse is good for playing, but only for so long.  Eventually it must be dragged back to recharge, refuel, or just be by itself.

I try to make my corpse more like me.  Making it exactly like me isn’t possible, but through that effort I can improve my corpse so it does even more of what I like.  It doesn’t mold as easy as the clay that it resembles, though.

My corpse is imperfect, and I accept its imperfection.  To expect perfection from a corpse is to create disappointment.  When it comes to my corpse, I aim for progress and improvement instead of some kind of “end” result.

Without me, my corpse would be nothing.  Without my corpse, I would be corpse-less.

My corpse likes coffee and sugar and lots of other things that look, sound, feel, smell, and taste good.  Some of them I like, and others I try to keep my corpse from wanting.  Sometimes it’s better to allow than to resist, and other times it’s better just to keep my corpse away from those things.

My corpse is as fresh as I keep it.  If I let it go, or forget to freshen it, it will break down and even start to rot—maybe while I’m using it.  I won’t use it forever, but I do like to care for it while it’s still usable.

My corpse isn’t me, but it resembles me; it’s an image of me.  To others who can’t see me through my corpse (and through their own corpses), I’m invisible.  My corpse is just the squishy shell I reside within.

Or does my corpse reside in me?

(Freshly edited on February 6, 2018.)

Purpose and Meaning

September 28, 2011

All matter in the universe tends to find equilibrium. Hot things cool down to the temperatures around them, substances break down into elements, and gasses spread out until an entire space is filled with them evenly.

Not so with life. Life forms tend to get more complex and diverse over time. This doesn’t appear to make sense in the world of matter! What is it that makes life improve and get more complex over time?

It’s whatever animates a living being, and which dis-animates the body at death. Call it what you want, but you don’t have to believe in it. It’s there! It can’t be measured as part of an experiment, which is why it isn’t in science textbooks. Nevertheless, this thing called Soul is responsible for life.

The purpose of life, in general, is twofold. First, it is the accumulated experience and growth of all life forms—learning—which leads to the second: the development of physical beings in whom this Soul can have full expression.

The qualities of Soul include love, forgiveness, peace, and unity. As the more developed humans progress in understanding, these characteristics will become more and more common.  We can see this “spiritual” development in many people today.

As we understand life more, our individual lives become more meaningful to us. As we learn, we lose our attachments to cherished objects and learn to let go. When we let go, we suddenly find that we just gained everything and that there is meaning wherever we go. We carry it with us.

People who haven’t figured this out yet often choose an arbitrary purpose for their own lives and pursue it. This still gives them some satisfaction and a feeling of accomplishment, but it doesn’t compare to the sense of fulfillment that comes with understanding.

Real understanding of your own true purpose is like living with the light on, compared to being in the dark all the time.

(Written in 2005 and freshly edited on December 19, 2016.)

Life and Fire

September 27, 2011
Jesus said, “I have cast fire upon the world, and look, I’m guarding it until it blazes.”  —Gospel of Thomas, 10

People love fire. They cook with it, they dance around it, and they like to just sit around and watch it. Why are people so attracted to fire? The answer is that life and fire are two similar processes. Both processes involve light and matter.

I’ll explain what I mean.

If there were no light, there would be nothing. Every particle in the universe would be motionless, and the temperature would be absolute zero. Absolute zero means no heat. No heat means no motion. No motion means no space-time. No space-time means nothing.

If the last light were to go dim, the universe would no longer exist.

Light might be called “eternal,” since the universe began with light’s warm touch (which implies that light does not originate in the physical universe). Light means heat, and heat means motion. When things move, things happen!

Light gives matter energy to move around and get into different configurations, like carbon atoms and water molecules and amino acids. Light also provides the energy that the right concoction needs to bridge the gap between being and being alive. In a sense, light is life!

Light—the Sun—makes life possible.

Once alive, matter needs light (and other things) to sustain its life. Plants receive light energy from the Sun and store it. When the plants die, their matter still contains light energy, which becomes part of the soil and enriches it for other life to use until the light energy’s release from matter.

If a plant is eaten, its light energy is passed on to an animal, which uses some of the light energy in its own body and passes the rest on as bodily waste. Bodily waste is also useful to fertilize soil, as it is still rich in light energy. When the animal dies, its light energy stays with its body until passed on through digestion, decay, or eventual burning.

Of course, plants can burn, too—even better than animals. This is because their light energy is less diluted with other compounds: it’s more “pure” in plants than in animals. When organic (plant or animal) matter burns, the light energy that entered the original plants is released from matter, back into light:

Light energy + Matter = Organic Matter


Organic Matter – Light energy = Matter

Organic combustion is the separation of light energy and matter. When we watch a fire, we are witnessing the escape of light energy from organic matter. This includes the burning of petroleum products, since petroleum (as a fossil fuel), is formerly organic matter that still retains its light energy. That’s why it can burn so well!

When we watch a fire, we are effectively watching a resurrection, the return of light energy from its temporary entrapment in matter back to its original state of unbounded freedom.

The absence or presence of life in matter parallels the cycle of light energy in organic matter. Light is the visible manifestation of Life in matter, and fire sets light energy free from matter! That’s why light—especially fire and particularly the Sun—captivates us so.

(Written in 2006 and freshly edited on December 19, 2016.)

Why I’m Here

September 26, 2011

Most people don’t have any idea why they’re here, or what they should be doing—and most don’t appear to care about either question. Instead, they spend their time pursuing material things, or pleasure, or being ineffective because of contradictory notions they’ve picked up from other people who also don’t know what they’re doing here or why.

These questions are what I care about most in life, and I’ve spent more time pursuing their answers than I’ve spent doing anything else. As a result, I live a life that is basically free, happy, peaceful, and enjoyable. My relationships with people around me are good and they continue to improve over time.

There is much wrong in the world—much undeveloped potential in people—and every bit of it is because of people’s ignorance about themselves, other people, and their relationship to the world and people around them. People are simply full of wrong beliefs, ideas, opinions, and impressions about life.

I am here to learn what very few people care to learn for themselves, and to share what I know and understand with as many people as I can. Eventually, many people will understand what I and others like me have been trying to tell them and the problems that have plagued the world for eons will begin to disappear.

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