One of the rules of this forum is sincerity. And i'm going to abide by this rule but i don't like that i'm going to write now. First i wanted to thank Danny and to say him sorry for being too late for this thread, and thank you!
I returned from funeral of a relative, he was a very honest old man, totally blind for the last decade, he was slowly coming even with death this month, first for weeks, then for days, hours, minutes. Last days he couldn't hold a cup in his hand, move a leg, and being blind for many years, asthmatic and in constant pain due to overmedication, he fought for every tiny breath of air, till the last second he uttered "I want to live, want to live, want to live".
But there is a difference between his death and what you were heading to do: he lived and died as a tiny bolt of giant train of deception not recognizing that he is a bolt.
But you by simple fact of being on this forum are not like him: he didn't have that precious knowledge that could have shaped his life differently - that you are aware you are a bolt, I know that I'm a bolt supporting war and destruction machine by mere fact of my existence.
I mean, Danny, we all came here via strange different ways and here we have a rare gift of opportunity to really see that we are not more than talking and moving bolts in the giant train of deception and lies.
I think as we are part of this system we support it by mere fact of our existence as zillions of other bolts. One bolt can't fight mass of train, no matter how desperate his attempts would be. What use would be to become a dead broken bolt only to be immediately substituted by the next spare new one?
We have a truly priceless if utilized wisely opportunity. We can become conscious self-aware bolts little by little, one by one. And then when one becomes a self-aware bolt in that huge Train rushing nowhere he through enormous efforts can start unscrewing himself from matrix hole he is firmly placed in. Then he needs to create shocks so luckily during one of them he falls out of place, finally free. And then maybe, once free, this self-aware bolt will see that actually it is more than a piece of crafty metal, that there is a spark of life inside, if he cherishes that tiny life one day he realizes that he is a caterpillar which one day becomes a butterfly.
If more butterflies will gently and insistently flap their wings all over that pesky train sustained by zillions of bolts put in place by 4d engineers more bolts will feel a strange tension and start to extricate themselves from respective jolts in train. More bolts will be able to fall from train; some of those will flap wings over to assist others to unscrew themselves. At a certain moment a critical mass of screws will fall out of train, so with loss of a tiny one more the whole decepticon train will simply disintegrate, turn into mountain of rotten metal wreckage to be disposed properly.
You can't fight the system, By fighting with it, you become one with it osit. Only thing each one can do is to extricate himself from it and help others doing it themselves. Laura on one of threads wrote that "one has to be wise as a serpent and gentle as a dove".
Danny, would you believe that when one bolt somewhere in the universe desperately tries to unscrew itself or to be broken up; maybe somewhere else another bolt will hear that strange hammering sound and will start doing the same from its part of the vast universe! Maybe more than one bolt will hear hammering sounds!
I'm very grateful to you that you hammered, as I was for quite a while desperate as nothing worked: not self-remembering, not self-observe as I observed only when was able to fix something ugly, and logically observe has nothing to do with fixing anything. I thought that I'm not more than a poor robotoid not able to do anything, with that last thought of self-pitying after reading Henry's post I wiped and went to sleep, and then suddenly woke in the middle of the night thinking of you, of that train we are integral part, and then something unexpected happened: I clearly saw the last day, the day of funerals myself like if somebody else would see me. I don't know if it was a glimpse of self-remembering or not, but definitely it was first time I saw what I was doing from somewhere else. And it was very ugly sight, like there was nothing altruistic in anything I did, everything had some selfish agenda, comfort or pleasure of being in company of persons I respect much. Guys, I don't know what it was, but it was ugly.
Danny, thanks to your battling your wings somewhere on the other side of BBM I was able to have a little glimpse on myself. I saw myself from outside. Yesterday night I saw it so clearly, and now I'm back to sleep and thoughts are not so adamantly clear as they were tonight. I was so overwhelmed that didn't write anything down. How to prolong these moments of self-awareness just a tiny bit?
