Okay, I feel somewhat ashamed by this. I channeled this work about a month ago. It was something’s gospel, and it gave it to me, and it is an interesting read full of interesting thoughts. Although I wrote down the gospel word for word, I didn’t write down the name of the entity that it belonged to. I was also tired after I did this and I set it aside to reread it later before posting it and its taken me this long to remember I had it and get around to getting it up. If I remember the name of the original author, or better yet if I can reestablish the initial channel and contact him, I’ll change the title of the post to reflect this and give credit where it is due.
Time moves against us, forward and backward, like the current.
It is a fool who glances past the initial illusion of time and supposes he has found some great truth, when all he has found is another illusion. And so all wisemen are fools.
It is a fool who glances upon the illusion set before him and supposes that it must hold some truth. And so all fools are wisemen.
Time ebbs and flows backwards and forwards. Its shape is malleable, its form in constant flux. Because it exists as a matter of perspective learned men consider it a construct of perspective. A thing that is naught, except that we have named it, to explain away the physical laws.
And yet an ocean, perceived correctly, is naught but a trillion tiny drops of water, with a shape no less malleable and a form no less in flux then time itself. No boundary exists between ocean and ocean, besides that which man has named, and no boundary exists between drop of water and drop of water, except that which we has been perceived. But do we suppose an ocean is naught because it is only a perception? Does the nature or form of the ocean change when seen only as a trillion tiny drops?
The All of the universe is infinite in all directions. When we search for the beginning, where all things begin, we circumvent one obstacle, peel back one layer, only to find another layer and another obstacle without end. When we look ahead to see the ending of all things, we see only continuity and new beginnings.
The first spark that began the universe occurred prior to the creation of time, and so all things where created at once. The first spark occurred, and all of creation came into being.
And the ending of all things should have occurred at that moment, except that there is no ending, because the All is infinite in all directions, and so all things lingered on, and from this the ocean time was born.
The first spark that began the universe occurred prior to the creation of time, and so all things where created at once.
But they were also created in order. There was that which came first, and that which came last, and that which came in between. For if there was no order then nothing could linger and there would be no infinity.
And so there was order, and there was chronology, and time existed before its existence.
The first spark that began the universe occurred prior to the creation of time, and so all things where created at once. The first spark occurred, and all of creation came into being.
But the few learned among us knows that the universe did not begin at the first spark, that there was that which existed before the first spark, and so there is no true beginning.
The beginning is a matter of perspective.
All things are forever because the All is infinite in all directions. We are and will always be, and so there is no change, no point in choosing one path over another.
Some learned men see cycles. All things infinitely repeat. All that happens will happen again.
We are all just fallen embers from the first spark. We are all just pieces of driftwood cast in the ocean of time. Insignificant, pointless, meaningless, and our destiny dependent on the motions of supreme powers.
But if we can perceive a beginning, we can percieve an ending. And between a beginning and an ending we can change, evolve, and become.
But the All is infinite in all directions, and so if we mark an ending, we must also concede that a beginning is birthed. And so we move between beginings and endings, over and over, some marked by time, some by age, and some by virtue of accomplishment. We become creatures of eternal struggle and hardship who never know the peace and tranquility of a piece of driftwood moving where the current takes it.
When we mark an ending, we sit on the precipice of a new destiny. No longer are we constrained to the fate gifted to us by some external power. No longer is our existence pointless. We have a purpose. We can shape universes. We are no longer a fallen ember, but a new first spark.