revised hateration

the dijiblog
OK, so hate scared me. It made me want to hate it, then I Realized, the age old "...fire with fire" addage applies. It's not going to work. Hate will only amplify itself with more hate, and thus to truly want to oppose it, one must love Love until love overflows with so much love that hate gets smothered into submission.
So what is hate on this level :the almost ready to crack because I'm getting so much love I can't stand it edge? Is it still hate? is the "thing" that IS hate at one point NOT hate at another? Won't they just find a new thing to hate? What is the heart that once hated now full with love? The fallen angel that got back up?

You have to tell a devil now, that it's possible, or else they won't even bother considering the bounty that is everlasting love. You have to show them that in the end, there is a place at the table for the wicked to drink from the wisdom of the righteous and eat the bread of forgiveness. It might not attract them away from their grimey quest to rule inequality but it acknowledges something a wicked mind has most likely denied, long buried beyond the echo of memory; the love they left to be with hate. Love didn't lose them when they lost love. It retreated into hibernating seed form and evil grew from a shallower shell, an æon of utero for good to cacoon and prepare for future transformation. A mere weekend spiritual retreat in the Kosmic time scheme of things.

can there be a productive hatred? of Hatred?

the dijiblog
the paradox, it seems, will never leave us in this cold world full of warm sunsets, hugs, and genocide. The duality of incarnation started with our pairs of eyes, legs, really with the first cell division but it's been nothing but more of that shit since conception. Hell, even sex was the proveribial yin and yang getting their freaky deak on. The blessing of the curse.

so I awoke this morning (1:12 P.M. for the record) with a new taste for hate in my mouth. The haters, and I mean the REAL haters who hate for reasons they could never justify in Heaven's court, are running our fucking Nation, their little shadow government, and subsequent allies over the world plotting power moves to secure their caste above the one's they hate. Why do they hate us?

I don't know. But I know that I don't hate them, directly. I'm starting to feel a power from hating their hatred though. No, REALLY hating on it. Feeling the surge of requited love pump energy to my heart when the words " I hate you!" emerge upon pondering the haters of life that are continually assasinating all things lively. These are dark times.

The Sith have visualized a plan to put themselves in a position to control a holy war of hatred and judgement, and where does it end? Is this really an assassination attempt on Earth? Are these really the babies who would abort their mother before they are even born? IF and only IF, this is the case and there is THAT level of hatred in the swarm of beasts of men THEN I hate them.

You should hate them to. Hatred is a form of love, no? Their Hatred is different because it is mutinous against the very forces of Nature that sustain us AND them. Our newfound hatred will be a positive thing. A strand of our everlasting love for the forces that do sustain us and bless us with life, love, and liberty for REAL. Can we not take up our hatred as a sword to defend against those who hate our Mother and Father and even more filthily, our children of the future??

The paradox hasn't left us even in our highest stages of enlightened development. In fact, it has OWNED that path from Christ to Buddah, from Nagarjuna to Wilber, ALL frought with the paradoxical result of seiing and being through a non-duality and then dealing with the dualistic habits of the Kosmos in THIS world. Though it is impossible to enlighten all sentient beings, I must never pass from this world till I do. The world is Illusary. Brahman alone is real. Brahman IS the world. So to honor our enlightenment, we have to surf samsara and make love to maya for God knows how long... that's not important. WE are insignificant. That's a supreme spiritual understanding that seems paradoxical. Though we kind ourselves on peaks of achivement's mountain with a sincere pat on the back from our Divine Source, a resounding crack from God's other hand sends us shooting down the slopes, back into the fiery pits of humanity's utter lack of humanity.

The paradox is our strength. An understanding gives this paradox a secret access code to enter from below and use it from above. I hate hatred. I love love. I create what creates me. I destroy what destroys me. Are these not neo-logic? Do the wisdom traditions ultimate conclusions on the nature of our existence not affirm this?

I realize that I'm just "grappling" right now with powers that I have yet to fully understand. The Tao continually provides me with an equalateral myst every time I think I find a clearing in the forest. My committment to justice is unswayed. Hate will not be it's baton, but my questioning the lack of hate's positive usage lives on. It basically boils down to: do we have a right to hate, destroy, and kill to ultimately reveal that this world CAN be experienced without those things being our overlords?

fruityloop crack corn and I don't care

the dijiblog
So the kids were getting crack in the form of a new kind of rock. Dijilogs chopped down and carved into to musical blocks
once we started I knew they wouldn't stop
It's the magnetism of when bottom sees top, clouds aren't as distant
this is thanks I'm giving to the multiple streams of consciousness that collided to end up with that master piece of a program
Good for the whole fam, now I'm the new dope man
loops are my lines of coke and beats are the buds we smoke
promote global harmony with musical notes
if anything at all to me, the youth are the hope
3:05 A.M and dreamland is pulling my rope
peace
jæzi

crack kids in the elevator

the dijiblog

So dreams tell you shit, and my dreams lastnight/this morning are wierding me out. A building not unlike CAbrini Green and an elevator that two younger than young (6-10) boys go up and down smoking crack between floors, dodging witnesses. I wish I could tell you more but that memory side of the brain is hungry and moving ahead fast.
Oh yeah, they get that ashy look on their faces that crackheads get and when they go outside and confront all the concerned older folks, it looks as if it's just effects of the newly fluffing snow fall and the kids act as if their crackheadedness is just raw, natural, youth enthusiasm for life. Pretty sick huh?

Bang's Bigger Brother

Ef it. I'm blogged in. dijilog the jæzi's adventures gone .something
peace and much respect to all Gods and Earths, Originals and hybrids. All praise due to the creator of the universe in which I live. Original face looking at the kid like, this young work I did is simply superb. I give and recieving blessings is not believing less of this King of Kosmic manifesting. I'm just the next best thing.

all humility aside. I am Bang's Bigger Brother.

I've been undercover, in the swamps of noncompetetive, over-edited little digital discredits to this thing I call Hiphop. Kosmic sloppiness, crop circles around dots and blips
on a quest for my tribe called spirit de la consciousness
stuck in day off nonsense
bliss
fists balled up in verse forms and bent tapes
squeak past deadlines with insense and beats by the crate
why fate?
I'd rather just gyrate around 33 and a 1/3 vinyl plates
but my stake in heaven is so high, I must elevate
down the herb in me and the words find skull gates
the sounds revive and reallign all vibes in time and out spralls space
the shit is bangin suns

mixtape turned blog entry
peace
jæzi

That's a perfect example of my style of clown foolery and I'm hoping to actually expand on this form of formlessness and get into some new literary territory thanks to this blog technology. I'd like to gather my thoughts as it seems these things are rife with as an application and my alternative methods are growing repetitive. Therapy is too expensive and I just can't put my friends through this. Don't consider yourself an enemy because I'm giving you this candid, hopefully exposed shadow element of my self. Think of it more as the mental voyeurism it is. Fuck it right? They watch our every organic move they can with the lense of Big Brother's eye, why not voluntarily offer our mechanical manifestations of mentality to the even bigger I of the Internet.

Not that I'm paranoid or anything. Quite the contrary. I embrace the material warder's floundering gropes at the heart strings of my intention. My source is bigger, deeper, wider than their motivation. I got into a firey verbal skirmish over the actual definition of conservative and it's bastardization and adoption by a sect of the United States Republican Party. Context wields its wormhole enslavement of semantics once again. Well, I conserve emptiness.

I'm fencing off natural emptiness reserves in my mental environment that not even the vampire of consumerism can penetrate. Media monstrosities surround us but when will we take up arms and make them serve the common good? Analog roots need digital branches for nature's sake, silicon and carbon must get along. This transcendental mandate is indisputable to me for some reason. I call it liberal awareness and formless conservation. How much longer can the opposittes mock eachother in plain view of their common trunk?

3:13 A.M. and I'm sunk. Off to that zone where thoughts get unthunk...
cheers! to Fu, Mel, and blogspot for egging a wandering stream down this browser hill. It feels like it's working already. Big up to free therapy!