New Directions. I want to travel as far as I can go, I want to reach the joy that’s in my soul, And change the limitations that I know, And feel my mind and spirit grow; I want to live, exist, “to be,” And hear the truths inside of me.
Conceiving, thou hast given no sign of life. In claiming thee, a labour of creating value, is nothing worth holding, nothing satisfying; the realization of thy inhibition all? By self-effacement would seem reality. This self, how empty! how prolific of incompleteness!
In self-denial its stimulation to simulate reality… more and more comes out; these ugly mists of illusion are parental, the cause of Heaven's hatred! That is why I fear to believe in God, subordination to an attribute, an idea of Self is not freedom of love! Probably Almighty is he who is unconscious of the idea of God. When asked to explain himself in job he goes on about the mysteries of nature, is conscious I wonder, mother nature I mean!
Now may the fierceness of my unity be "Thy" silence and for me no longer a query or labour to espouse my doubt. Yet mankind for ever doubts, quirks, and for every pleasure pays, till he becomes millionaire: the punishment shall fit the appraisement of his capitalization, there is that fear! The rich in dross, to cheat his conscience, affects humility, speaks of himself as "poor," his possessions as "burdens," or of "small account"!
Of what consolation the truth in the day of weary waiting and watching, the restless striving, the imprisonment, the rack, the horrors of every conceivable torture? When he becomes accustomed, loses reality, and no longer deterred, will he then create God and miseries afresh?
Oh, folly of the world, deny thy faith, renounce this Bloody-Sceptred God and confess. The completion of folly is the beginning of childhood, but of knowledge there is no end. It was the straying that found the path direct. From childhood, I have never denied my invincible purpose.
Oh, silent watcher, thou sleepless eye of the Universe, watch over the beginning of all my ideas. The misery of the world would seem eternal, whilst I, in the midst, like an infant not yet smiling, am impervious in purity (of self-love) but I dare not claim its service! I am in eternal want of realization, poor though I be, my contentment is beyond your understanding.
An opinionist, I fear to advocate an argument, or compromise myself by believing my own doctrines as such… may they ever be their own expurgers! Fearsome of knowledge, may my belief be its emptiness, yea, ignorance! From my daring to believe religions, doctrines, creeds, so shall I hold the jewel of truth. So cautious am I, simultaneously do I deny that which I affirm, and hold fast to the "not necessity," by paradox superseded, without antecedent, spontaneous, I revert to the Absolute, watch my intoxication and control- the reaction of Karma.
How easy is the Way, it would seem as though nothing should be said but all unsaid! May my words be few and pregnant! Alas, the futility of the idea of God has not yet reached its limit, all men liars, appear striving for insanity as its climax: while I alone as one prematurely aged, reason tottering on its throne, remain sane, in positive chastity, confessing no conscience, no morals- a virgin in singleness of purpose.