Karmic Consequences

Mirriam-Webster Online Dictionary:

• Main Entry: con·se·quence
  
• Pronunciation: \ˈkän(t)-sə-ˌkwen(t)s, -kwən(t)s\
• Function: noun
• Date: 14th century

1 : a conclusion derived through logic : inference
2 : something produced by a cause or necessarily following from a set of conditions consequences of the war>
3 a : importance with respect to power to produce an effect consequence> b : social importance
4 : the appearance of importance; especially : self-importance

synonyms see importance

— in consequence : as a result

The past week has been a constant reminder of how ignorant people generally are of the direct results of their own actions. Things do not just happen, there is always a choice behind a string of events that can be pointed as a source of origin. Things just do not happen to you. The choices you made, and how the choice was manifested, lead to the given result. Any arising faced on a daily basis is a product of choice.

Cuisvis hominis est errare; nullius nisi insipientis in errore perseverare

How sad it is to note then that current events have been full of finger-pointing, blaming the "consequences" and externalizing one's responsibilities. To live a life while manifesting the necessary, because necessary is never far from what is real. To live a life manifesting honesty, honesty unto one self and unto one another. To live a life understanding that the optional is expensive and the unnecessary is unlikely. One should never choose the optional and the unnecessary, unless prepared to pay the highest price for vanity.

What is so incomprehensible about the aforementioned? How in the name of every known deity, and then some, have I to face the incompetence and ignorance, the half-assed manifestations of the Thelemic "Do what thou Wilt" with sub figura "not giving fuck is awesome" or "fuck everyone else", on a daily basis?

...

A day in the life of...

Friday, the last day of July. The usual business of managing a hotel keeps me occupied with all different kinds of arisings. The JoenRantaRock (The RiverSideRock -festival, for all you English speaking friends) preparations are on their way. The festival has been held in the evening restaurant of the hotel for the past two years, and this year it is attempted to be held outside entirely. The building of the stage is taking far too long, I notice, as I stand on a balcony overlooking the festival area between the hotel and the River Kymi. I try not to worry about the building schedule, which at this point is beyond all hope.

[Edit: The rest of the entry has been removed by the author due to discretion towards persons included and the immense hurt caused by the misinterpretation of given information.]

Reflections on an Ultimatum

I have to honestly admit I have pissed away half of the day and I feel angry over numerous things, yet again too many to mention. Is it the anger having caused me to organize my life badly today, or is it the fact that I have organized my life badly the primary cause of my anger? Perhaps it has been my recent attempts in brutal honesty towards the people whom I so dearly love that have set this mood. I should be above this kind of crap, but still I am here, contemplating this nonsense. [I received today's mail containing the company's bills and started processing them for the purchase ledger, and found out, that I couldn't remember what date it is. Couldn't remember the month either.] From late 2004 to 2006 I made some terribly bad "calls" and those "calls" still affect my existence today. The choices presented to me then came with a price to pay like it is customary with every choice an individual makes. There is no such thing as "win-win" situation. The following quotes from the great Robert Fripp creep into mind: "The necessary is possible. The optional is expensive. The unnecessary is unlikely" "Necessity is never far from what is real." I chose the "optional" as a career choice regarding my work in the hospitality industry and "unnecessary" as a career choice in the music industry. The ventures on both fields turned out to be expensive and set goals turned out to be unlikely. I have managed to discharge many tasks in my life superbly. I am not bragging, nor am I joking. I have nearly ruined my life failing at many other tasks miserably. This is not a lament, nor a joke. All this is nothing new in itself. I believe every man has come to crossroads more than once in his existence, that is, a man who has the capacity to self-reflect. This is again something I refuse to take for granted. To continue my exercises in brutal honesty, the root of my anger is as follows: I was recently presented with an option: a choice to make. It was written in as such, perhaps intended as such. However, it was written by someone who is in no position to present me in any kind of choices. Moreover, it was presented over a matter that involves no choice whatsoever. What it actually boiled down to - an ultimatum. Had it been coming from someone I know, or someone with any kind of "authority" over anything, I might have taken heed. I actually might have taken time to reflect on it. I presented the ultimatum to my inner circle. It was treated like every other ultimatum ever presented to us: with violent derision and contempt.

Hypnos

There is a stranger in the mirror and he has a face like mine. The feeling of being detached from this world grows as the February drags along, half-buried in snow, and its dark days draining and devouring the light reflected from the cold black waters. Burned to the core for now, but certainly not broken, and with wild abandon I will resurrect, be reinstated and alive. But for the time being, I choose only to exist and existence will be sufficient enough until I have something to say, something to give and somewhere to go. For now, let me sleep for I am weary of the waves of demands, overthrowing and all encompassing. I am weary of everything. Tread lightly when you pass by my door or my window, tread lightly, and weep not for me in the morning, like a friend once wrote, for I am here, as unbounded as the infinity, in the finite world.

Until the morning, let me sleep and dream, and wake up in the light I once knew.

Vel prece vel pretio

From the rooftops of Gaudi's Cathedral saints, please, bless me, for my heart pulls south
No prayer can save me now, no such word strong enough.
I do not know what has gotten to me or what brought me here tonight,
I've got nothing to give you but my heart and the thoughts I claim as mine.

And now that image is no longer, a figure forms naturally.
When you stand besides all the nonsense, then what would you really be to me:
a portrait of a goddess, or an angel to purge my hurt,
or the closest thing to perfect in a less than a perfect world

[On the road from Madrid to Murcia, on the last minute of the last hour of May 29th 1995]

The end, my friend

Tuesday night I am working late and receive an unexpected phone-call.

no:status, as a group, is no more.

All public appearances cancelled, a video shoot cancelled, everything cancelled.
I proceed to inform the inner circle resulting stupefied reactions all around.

Utter lack of communication and understanding for one part and utter lack of empathy for the other. The needs of an individual versus the needs of the many. The lack of motivation, dedication and determination. The feeling of treachery and betrayal.

Faith lost. Credibility lost. A contract terminated.

Remembrance

"I am afraid that I am lost if I put out the candle tonight..."

Such were the words I scribbled on a piece of paper on a morning that now seems like a lifetime ago. 13 years to the day to be exact. The sun had just climbed above the Mediterranean Sea, its rays piercing the velvet darkness of the Spanish summer night and exorcising the ghosts of nightmares of yesterday. I wanted to dream and drown in that light.

The poet and fool who sat on that beach is no more. The romantic notions of the beauty of the world and the loud narcissistic views of self have been burned in the flames of hell human beings refer to as "life", or merely "existence". They have been replaced by quiet irony, a clear sense of self, and stillness and silence of mind during the darkest dreamlike journey through time and space under the shadow of the fading stars.

Yet this stillness and silence I harbor are a sequel to that same dream. My domain may be in impenetrable darkness and in the furthest corner opposing the light, but I am neverthless existing, and I exist with purpose, meaning, rhyme and reason.

The question I get asked, more than often these days, is:

"are you happy?"

Happiness is the most clever form of self-deception human ego has ever produced. It is a product of a lifelong lie that human beings wrap themselves in and produce an utopia of self-made sense of fulfilment in a self-procreated world where perception produces a reality of sorts. A reality based on how others perceive and accept the individual, the tyranny of tradition and senseless attributes such as how much a human being is "worth", the garments and gadgets one possesses, and the preposterous assumption of the aforementioned having absolute value.

What reason produces such monsters? Human beings have the ability to lie even to themselves. What started out thousands of years ago as a minor survival technique somewhere along the ruthless path of evolution has grown into a serious case of hubris. Human beings have made the deception of others in order to survive into a permanent attribute defining a large part of the interaction with the world. Lying in order to achieve something is abysmal. Lying to oneself in order to achieve something is beyond description. And what kind of wonderful by-products do we enjoy as a result of this? War, religion and other uncounted acts of terror to name a few. The very existence of laws forbidding to do all things harmful. Is there a need of a structured legal systems keeping human beings from annihilating and inflicting harm to one another? Unfortunately yes, and the worst of all, humans are taking it for granted. The human beings have accepted the fact that they are dangerous, destructive and stupid, and looking at history, they are not about to change. There has been only a few brief periods in the recorded world history in the last 5000 years when not a single sentence was given out in any court. The first one is a period recorded in Sumer and second during the second intermediate period in Egypt.

I've been told that we live in the Age of Aquarius. No, we live in the Age of Individualism, no matter what any crystal-rubbing, pot-pulling, vegetable-munching sissy of a hippie says. There is absolutely nothing wrong with individualism per se, only how human beings instantiate it.
With individualism comes individual responsibility and not many beings can carry that weight.
You cannot be an individualist and hand out the responsibility of your actions, and the reaction they instigate, to anyone but yourself. Not even the tiniest fraction of it. The pinnacle of human stupidity, religion, has changed as a result of the Age of Individualism. The attempts of reaching the divine and taking part in any given godhead has become more audacious and even more laced with galactic proportions of self-deception. Ritual magick, the various forms of modern witchcraft, the majority of the new age cults and urban shamanism all embody the premise of altering the surrounding world with thought and will, acting as medium of supernatural powers, and in some cases, acting out divine will. I have not met a single human being with whom I would trust the keys of time and space, and with whom I would trust the fate of this world. It is a monumental statement of the ego to be able to say that "I can change this world with my will". And what would you do with it, you puny mortal? Would you change things as you see fit? Would you stop hunger, injustice, suffering and hate? Would you bring fulfilment, justice, freedom and balance? No, you would do "love spells", "talk to spirits" and "conjure metaphysical entities". You would use "the mystical energies of the universe". You would engage in a fruitless conversation with your own ego, your god, underpinning your self-esteem while entertaining yourself with entities to which you have given birth in your own imagination.

In days of the ancients Lord Sabaoth said: "I am Lord, your fucking GOD" and that was that. Now we have a bunch of teenagers dressed in black H&M rags and wearing crappy jewelry wanting to be gods or goddesses. Oh dear.

With the words of the great Thomas Gabriel Fischer:

"If this is creation, I feel misplaced".