writing

Arthur Schopenhauer: Vibrant 19th Century Seeker Of and Voice For Truth

Some of you will know that I consider and identify Myself as being the single greatest and most brilliant philosopher known to exist in the 21st century. Yes, I know I am egotistical and narcissistic, but I am also sane and rational. I see Myself as I am. Nobody on this plane is articulating Truth with the depth, the sophistication, the beauty and the all-encompassing wisdom, as I am. Nobody else. Show Me another voice and mind, and I will compare them to Me, with fairness and a genuine desire to know that a philosopher equal or greater in MindPower to Me, exists.

I see no such voice, no such mind, anywhere in the public realm. In some ways this pleases Me, to know I have maximizing My brilliance to a level nobody else can match or exceed. In other ways this discourages Me, because it reinforces the Forbidden Truth of just how hopelessly doomed I am, when there is no other human who can match up to Me, and the human universe is certain to be forever ruled by inferiors.

As the most brilliant of all existing minds, I seek lesser minds that can still inspire and challenge and help Me to uplift My own, to continue to shatter and exceed the levels of brilliance I have already achieved.

One such mind, that manages to achieve this feat, is that of 19th century victim and Martyr Arthur Schopenhauer. Eternally unborn more than 150 years ago, the voice and the mind of Arthur still resonates with the timeless, untouchable, and eternal beauty of genuine, valid, and uniquely insightful Truth.

Arthur was dead wrong in many of his reality perceptions, and yet he was so perfectly right in many other reality perceptions. This is why he is not a top-level Seer of Forbidden Truth, yet his voice and his mind resonate with the creative force of a mind alive, in earnest pursuit of Truth, and determined to develop the capacity to express and reveal such Truth, with courage and in defiance of any existing social and cultural doctrines and decrees.

Thank you Arthur, for possessing a mind capable of modestly inspiring and impressing My own. Thank you Arthur, for helping, in small ways, to deepen and engorge the perfection of My own mind and voice. Thank you for developing the articulation skills required to paint this desolate world void of the vibrant colors of Truth, with a few very real strokes of vibrant and True color.

Your collective articulations of Truth have been integrated to My Self-universe, and I am stronger and more brilliant, because of them.

A few of Arthur’s Mind Bombs:

Ego and Self-love: “What a person is for himself, what abides with him in his loneliness and isolation, and what no one can give or take away from him, this is obviously more essential for him than everything that he possesses or what he may be in the eyes of others…

Man can indeed do what he wants, but he cannot will what he wants.

Talent hits a target no one else can hit; Genius hits a target no one else can see.

A man can be himself only so long as he is alone, and if he does not love solitude, he will not love freedom, for it is only when he is alone that he is really free.

Great men are like eagles, and build their nest on some lofty solitude.

Very famous, but flawed insight:

All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident.” #1 and #2 are right on-target. But #3, no, completely inaccurate. Here you see the struggle of a mind seeking enlightenment, but failing. Forbidden Truth is not realized. We must learn from the mistakes of other, aspiring, Superiors.

After your death you will be what you were before your birth.” The very beginning of an articulation of the Forbidden Truth of what it is to become retroactively unborn. But not fleshed out, not properly explained, not presented within the light of infinite horror such Truth deserves. Truth, properly deepened by Me.

The discovery of truth is prevented more effectively, not by the false appearance things present and which mislead into error, not directly by weakness of the reasoning powers, but by preconceived opinion, by prejudice.

The social organization of brainwashing and indoctrination to conceal Truth: “Religion is the masterpiece of the art of animal training, for it trains people as to how they shall think.

To live alone is the fate of all great souls.

It is only a man’s own fundamental thoughts that have truth and life in them. For it is these that he really and completely understands. To read the thoughts of others is like taking the remains of someone else’s meal, like putting on the discarded clothes of a stranger.” Arthur, I take only your most Superior thoughts, and I do not wear them, I merely allow them to commune with the perfection of My own mind.

Freedom, immortality: “The man never feels the want of what it never occurs to him to ask for.

Patriotism, when it wants to make itself felt in the domain of learning, is a dirty fellow who should be thrown out of doors.

The role of the media in maintaining the status quo: “Journalists are like dogs, whenever anything moves they begin to bark.

The organic nobility and benevolence of all Truth: “To free a person from error is to give, and not to take away.

The infinite horror of religion as it is imposed upon the most vulnerable child minds: “There is no absurdity so palpable but that it may be firmly planted in the human head if you only begin to inculcate it before the age of five, by constantly repeating it with an air of great solemnity.

The assumption that animals are without rights and the illusion that our treatment of them has no moral significance is a positively outrageous example of Western crudity and barbarity.

Why The Seer of Forbidden Truth has 50 loyal followers: “The person who writes for fools is always sure of a large audience.

Inferiors, beautifully exposed: “Every miserable fool who has nothing at all of which he can be proud, adopts as a last resource pride in the nation to which he belongs; he is ready and happy to defend all its faults and follies tooth and nail, thus reimbursing himself for his own inferiority.

Truth perception utilizing the Alien Eye, beautifully expressed: “So the problem is not so much to see what nobody has yet seen, as to think what nobody has yet thought concerning that which everybody sees.

The sacredness of Truth within all philosophical deliberations of the Self-mind: “Philosophy … is a science, and as such has no articles of faith; accordingly, in it nothing can be assumed as existing except what is either positively given empirically, or demonstrated through indubitable conclusions.

Why hope must be eradicated from consciousness, within all Truth quests: “Hope is the confusion of the desire for a thing with its probability.

A brilliant insight of Truth to how society & government promotes reading, knowing it is utilized by humans as a placebo, to neuter and limit independent thinking:

When we read, another person thinks for us: we merely repeat his mental process. In learning to write, the pupil goes over with his pen what the teacher has outlined in pencil: so in reading; the greater part of the work of thought is already done for us. This is why it relieves us to take up a book after being occupied with our own thoughts. And in reading, the mind is, in fact, only the playground of another’s thoughts. So it comes about that if anyone spends almost the whole day in reading, and by way of relaxation devotes the intervals to some thoughtless pastime, he gradually loses the capacity for thinking; just as the man who always rides, at last forgets how to walk. This is the case with many learned persons: they have read themselves stupid.

Let us all honor and thank Arthur, for growing the universe of Truth!

arthur8

All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.

Do My Writings Make the World a Better Place?

Several months ago I received an email that said, simply and solely: “Your writings make the world a better place.” It was sent from an iPhone, there was no other content, only this single sentence, and the email did not come from My handful of personally known devoted fans. I replied with a very brief form letter: “Thank you for appreciating Forbidden Truth”. I do this often, when I cannot determine the sincerity of a correspondent, but the email is respectful enough, and meets all of My quality control standards, to not deserve complete silence and immediate deletion.

I suspected then, and still do, that the email was not sincere. The human was trying to anger and upset Me, assuming, and it is a correct assumption, that I do not want to make the world a better place, as humans would define “better”, and might therefore find their assumption upsetting.

The Truth of course, is that nothing any human could say to Me, can impact My untouchable mind negatively.

Instead, this single sentence email comment sparked brilliant and profound Self-reflection, and I’ve decided to post My comprehensive Forbidden Truth ideological and definitional dissection of the stated opinion, right here, as a lengthy essay. Do My writings make the world a better place? The Truthful answer is really quite complex and requires a great deal of uniquely insightful analysis.

To begin, how must we define the “world”? Is it planet earth we speak of, or is it the entire cosmic universe? Traditionally, the term is used to isolate planet earth from the “universe”, and I suspect the e-mailer was referring to planet earth. But as you know, I am the farthest you can ever come from a traditionalist, and I accept no externally imposed definitions.

If we choose to limit the term to reference planet earth, both arguments can be made, that My writings do, and do not, make the “world” a better place. I advocate for the extinction of humanity, based upon the Forbidden Truth that humanity has proven it does not deserve to exist as a species. It is not “better” for any individual human to die, from their individual, Truth-based perspective, and species-wide extinction requires all humans to die.

Additionally, the circumstances that prompt human extinction to occur might also cause extreme and extensive harm to many, most, or even all other existing species of life on the planet. But this is only speculative. For example, it is interesting to note that nuclear radiation appears to impact many animals far less severely than it does humans:

https://curiousmatic.com/radiation-affects-animals-nuclear-disaster/

On a long-term basis, human extinction may very well help other species of life to thrive on planet earth.

Therefore, if My writings help push humanity towards species extinction, and such extinction occurs, the “living world” on the planet may, in the long-term, be much better off.

On the flip-side, if you define the “world” as constituting the cosmic universe, My writings are even more likely to make the world a better place. Humanity is a scourge upon the universe, and any sane, logical, and analytical thinker knows that sentient life almost certainly exists elsewhere. The devolving, genetically malformed, diseased and unviable human species poses an existential threat to extraterrestrial life, and its extinction would make the universe itself, inherently better and safer for all extraterrestrial creatures.

Yes, nuclear radiation or other impacts might affect “outer space”, but the distance between earth and other habitable planets should render any such impacts very minor and negligible. In other words, the positives should far outweigh any negative impacts.

So, from this external analysis, the question at hand cannot be answered with 100% certainty. Depending upon the exact circumstances, the definitional perspective applied, and the species of life that are referenced, My writings could end up impacting the world negatively or positively.

So now, lets make the analysis more internal and narrowed to planet earth, to humanity and to individual human beings. It is very fair to say that a tiny number of humans who choose to expose themselves to My writings, can and do experience positive improvement to their True Reality mind universe. These are aspiring Superiors who both seek Truth, and are able to recognize and embrace Truth, to some degree. Truth itself can make the Self-universe stronger and healthier, therefore My writings can make individual Self-universes better.

But, does this translate to making the human “world” as a whole, better?? No, it does not. The vast majority of humans cannot successfully integrate My writings to their Self-universe, on a positive level. They cannot, they do not, and they will not. Their inferior minds perceive all primary Truths as constituting a negative attack upon them. They are traumatized by Truth, and respond negatively and with hostility.

Most simply retreat and flee, instead of actively lashing back at Me, because their terror, on a subconscious level, is too severe for them to directly engage Me. But either way, their response must be considered actively hostile, and their exposure to My writings does not render their Self-universe “better”, on any definitionally valid level.

So, some Self-universes are made “better” by My writings, but the vast majority are not. It is the cumulative total of all Self-universes, that shape and determine the state of the human world as a whole.

Therefore, by traditional human judgement, My writings do not serve humanity, they do not make the human world a better place, even as they do impact the isolated and rare Self-universe of a tiny minority of aspiring Superiors, in a positive way.

The Forbidden Truth is, My writings, uniquely brilliant as they are, have little chance of directly impacting the overall fate of the human world. The species has already laid in a collision course, the Self-destruct sequence has already been initiated, and cannot be halted or reversed. The species has already doomed itself. My literary brilliance exposes this Forbidden Truth, much more than it can/does/will directly impact it.

In conclusion, My writings can be accurately said to make the world a better place, and/or to make the world a worse place, depending upon the definitional and ideological criteria that is applied, and depending upon the mind-universe perceptions of individual readers, and depending upon the specific species of life being impacted:

1: Extraterrestrial.
2: Non-human, earth-dwelling animal.
3: Human being.

And to conclude even further: I have absolutely no aspirational goal to make the world of the human being better, in any way, on any level. All of My writings are inspired by love, honor, and respect for the glory and the sanctity of Myself and the Truth. If your internal Self-universe is made better, then good for you, and I honor your attempt to try to properly honor Yourself, and the Truth.

In My reply to this singular comment, aspiring Superiors should gain an understanding of how complex philosophical and ideological Self-analysis can and should be inspired and undertaken.

writing9.jpg

All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

Burying The Brilliance

I am a thinker who writes, not a writer who thinks. I seek no audience beyond Myself. I write neither for money nor for fame. Within My created universe, an audience of infinite size and scope worships every word, every idea, every expression of Self I reflect upon it. This is My target audience, offering Me unconditional love and admiration and support. I am My universe, My universe is Me!

And so I enjoy burying My most brilliant texts. Some I never post in any public forum. I hoard them, reveling in their private possession as unique excretions of a brilliant and untouchable mind. Others I do post, but take subtle steps to try to limit the number of human eyeballs which gain the gift of their presence.

For example, it is easter friday evening, you call it “good friday”, a perverse christian holiday, for you pathetic citizen-slaves of the west. And so I chose to write and post one of My most brilliant and important of essays, on this evening. Why??

Because I know that for the non-christians, friday night is their preferred time to intoxicate their pathetic and broken brains upon artificial substances and romantic love and other toxic excreta, instead of reading blog and social media posts/essays. And for the christians, “good friday” evening is a time to worship their own deaths via commemoration of the suicide of their stalking victim, the mentally deranged jesus christ. So again, reading blog and social media posts is not a high priority.

That is why I specifically chose this evening to unleash My last essay, because I recognize it to be more primarily valuable than most of My other posts, and I wish to limit the number of human eyeballs who access it.

You can say My effort in this regard is petty and childish, and generally ineffective, as I cannot really control how many humans access My posts, after I make them public. But it pleases Me, to give you humans the most valuable of Truth, in this manner.

know how the pathetic brains of you humans work. You pathologically seek distraction, and so you reduce infinitely valuable Truth, to nothing more than useless distraction. You access WordPress and Ideapod on mobile devices, or work computers, primarily during your slave labor hours. That is when you read the majority of My posts. And so, if you examine My posting history, you will find many of My most brilliant Mind Bomb essays are being posted on holidays, or between 1 and 6 AM.

I go out of My way to reduce My number of readers. It is a small victory, with no real meaning. But it still pleases Me, because it is an insult to Me and to Truth, the way most of you use My uniquely brilliant and infinitely important writings as nothing more than distractions from reality, a way to waste your time, as you continue to waste and sacrifice your very lives in cowardice and stupidity, rejecting and denying the Forbidden Truths.

child labor 71All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.

More G-rated Female Foot Pain Pornography, Amputee Twist

crippled7
Crippled Beauty Abandoned At The Beach

Part one:

(Internal monologue:) I can’t believe he just left me here and drove off! He spend 2 years winning my trust, just to get me to go out with him in public dressed like this, and then he just laughs in my face and leaves, knowing how helpless I am?! Goddamn bastard!

Never trust anybody, Katie, never, unless you are paying them money to help you. I’ve always lived my life embracing this truth, until he came along… How could I have been so stupid!!?

Okay Katie, calm down and think…It’s at least four more miles to the apartment, I’ve managed to hobble, what…maybe half a mile so far. I can’t do four more miles, I just can’t…My foot stumps have already blistered badly, I can feel the blisters are almost about to break open. The worst thing is I can’t even try to adjust these damn boots, the bastard double-knotted them, knowing I can’t untie these laces with my arm stumps!

I just need help to get back to my apartment, I can call Janine from there, to come over and take off these torture boots and clean out my blisters, but who do I ask for help?? Everyone here is a stranger. These people won’t even look me in the eye, all they see is a deformed cripple…god, I’m gonna burst into tears any minute, the pain from these blisters and the embarrassment of this situation is just overwhelming me…

Part two:

Frank casually strolled onto the boardwalk. He hated being out among the humans, but his Female Foot Pain fetish needed some new stimulation. The beach was less inviting than the busy concrete jungle of downtown, filled with elegantly dressed women trapped in torturous dress shoes, but variety was the spice of life, and besides, traffic was too bad to justify the long drive.

While not nearly as treasure-filled for foot pain views, the beach still offered enticing possibilities, sore footed gals gingerly hobbling on the hot sand, exposing their inflamed bunions and prominent corns… Glancing around carefully, Frank could see, just within his outer field of vision, an extremely short, beautiful young woman standing by one of the boardwalk art pieces. People sometimes used these art pieces as makeshift seating.

Frank turned and slowly started walking towards this mysterious, unexpected sighting. He could not help gasping aloud as his mysterious target came into full view. She was not extremely short, but a double BTK, Below-The-Knee amputee! And could it be, she also had no arms! Only cute flaps of skin ending just before the elbow should have begun!!

Frank pinched himself, hard, trying to force himself to awaken. He was such an expert at Conscious Dreaming, he just had to make sure this was not an unrealized Conscious Dream. Ouch, that pinch hurt, and the command to awaken did not work. This was reality, an unbelievable stroke of fortune!

Frank slowed his gait down even more. There was no way this beautiful quadruple amputee could be here at the beach alone. No way. Parents, girlfriends, boyfriend, there had to be other humans with her.

Frank scanned the area, but everyone in sight was busy deliberately ignoring the singular target of all his attention. Frank knew the drill, this beautiful girl was their Elephant Man, a monster, a freak of nature to be shunned, covert glances and stares, but no contact, no acknowledgement of her uniquely shaped universe, it was too alien and terrifying for the humans.

Frank knew exactly and completely what it was like to be frankenstein’s monster. His freak and monster status was not quite so visible on the outside, but on the inside it far surpassed Katie, and as he slowly drew closer, continuing to scan for her vampiric familiars, he was drawn in, like a moth to a flame.

Part three:

Katie felt her despair beginning to overwhelm her. She had to do something, she couldn’t just keep leaning against this damn green piece of ugly art, trying to keep as much weight as possible off her left foot stump. The blisters were really bad on this stump, and the hard leather of her custom-made boots unmercifully pressed on them, and on the rock-hard corns that had formed years ago in response to the unnatural pressure Katie placed on her stumps with every step she took.

It was hot, and she was so thirsty, but most of all she was tortured by her helplessness, and her invisibility. Most of the time Katie liked being ignored by the humans, but as the throngs passed by, staring but refusing to make contact, Katie’s despair grew ever more desperate. Bicyclers and skateboarders whizzed by, taunting her with their mobility. Only four miles to the apartment, but it felt as far away as the moon to Katie, and the terrain just as impossible to navigate.

She saw him approaching slowly and cautiously, and waited for him to begin his turn, just like all the others, passing her by with at least six feet of space, as though she had a contagious disease. But no, he slowed down even more, and came directly to Katie, side-by-side, but stopping at a slightly-too-far for comfortable conversation distance. Katie peered up at Frank, he was tall and strong, but his bearing was not normal, she could immediately see he was different. And difference is scary, Katie knew this more than most anyone else, and so could not help but be frightened.

Beautiful day to be at the beach..“, said Frank, and smiled at Katie in his less-than-human way. “Yes, it is…” answered Katie, but her voice was void of happiness, a deep and raspy croak. Something was wrong, Frank immediately knew. He drew closer, looking Katie in the face, trying to see her eyes, but she wore dark sunglasses, and he could only identify sadness and some fear.

“I just want to say, thank you for showing the world what beauty really is. Thank you for being out here, today. I see your perfection. Do you see it?”

Katie heard the words but could not process them. So unexpected, even from the longest of familiars. But from a complete stranger, impossible to process, to believe. He was mocking her. One human finally stopped, and it was just to mock her! “Fuck off, you crazy freak! Just leave me alone!!”, she yelled at the top of her lungs.

Frank froze, his face changing, as he realized his mistake. Humans hated the Truth, how could he have forgotten this. Silent stalking was the only way. He pursed his lips and shook his fingers as his arms dangled at his sides. Shrugging and ruefully smiling, he turned to walk away.

And in the three seconds before Frank turned, after her scream of rage and frustration, Katie realized something terrible: She had hurt him. She could see it in his face, in his lips, in his fluttering fingers, in his body as he turned to leave her alone forever. She had hurt him, the one who stopped, the one who looked, the one who spoke, the one who said what she could not believe.

He was already walking away, taking his third long stride away from her, before Katie could find her voice, “Stop! I’m so sorry…” And Frank stopped, but he did not turn, and did not come back to Katie. “Come back…?” Still Frank stood unturned, and so Katie propelled herself forward, hobbling towards him on her agonized stumps until she faced him, and could look up, directly into his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was just…so confused…”

And Frank knew Katie was expressing her True Reality, as best she could. “It’s okay, I know you were confused. But I just wanted to say, thank you for showing the world what beauty really is. Thank you for being out here, today. I see your perfection. Do you see it?” It was the exact same words, exactly repeated. Katie heard them again, and somehow knew they were exactly the same. “That’s….exactly what you said before, isn’t it??” 

“Yes, the Truth deserves to be repeated, exactly as it is, over and over.” Katie reached with her arm stump to clumsily remove her dark sunglasses, and peered intensely into Frank’s eyes: “That is not the truth, I don’t believe it…” And Frank returned the intense glare: “I’m sorry you do not know the Truth. If you knew it, you would not have to try to believe it.

They were standing in the middle of the boardwalk now, people passing by in all directions, and Katie suddenly felt all the agonies of the day overwhelm her. She turned to try to make her way back to her green egg art sanctuary, only to come down heavily and awkwardly on her poor left foot stump. Blood engorged blisters howled in protest, and Katie gasped, dropping her sunglasses, and nearly falling to the ground.

Frank reached his arm out to her arm stump and gently steadied her, as Katie grimaced in agony, keeping her left foot stump raised. “You need to sit down“, Frank said, as he gestured back towards the green egg art. “Maybe on top, I’m not sure if it’ll be comfortable to sit on…” Katie limping badly, they made their way back to the green egg, and Frank lifted Katie up onto the egg.

Are you here alone?“, Frank asked. Katie could feel tears welling in her eyes. “I’m sorry, could you please get me my sunglasses, I dropped them over there”… Frank did, placing them directly on Katie’s face. “My…boyfriend bought me here, he told me it would be great to spend the whole day together with me, but he just did it because he wanted to break up with me and make me suffer by abandoning me and leaving me helpless. Now I’m stranded here, I managed to walk half a mile mile towards my apartment, but it’s still four miles away and I don’t think I can walk anymore…

Tears were streaming down Katie’s face now, but Frank’s words were somber and dispassionate: “You’ve always been alone Katie, just like I’ve always been alone. We are all, always alone. That’s the Truth, we need to develop our minds so that we can always thrive in isolation. If not physically, then at least mentally.”

Katie tried to process this philosophical advice over the fog of her incessantly throbbing foot stumps.

I’m Katie. You’re probably right, and I really want to learn more from you, but….right now, I know it’s a lot to ask….but I have to get home and take care of my poor stumps. Is there any way you could help me to the curb and get me a taxi. I don’t have any money with me, but I have it in my apartment, we can go together and I’ll pay you right back…

“My name is Frank”, Frank replied, “And we can do a lot better than that. I’ll give you a lift to your apartment in my car, and I’ll carry you all the way to the car and then all the way inside your apartment. You can’t walk on those poor feet anymore. They are your feet, your uniquely beautiful feet, they are not stumps. And, if you let me, I will gently and carefully take off your boots and minister to your beautiful feet, cleaning and dressing every throbbing blister and your exquisitely sensitive corns. You see, I am an amateur podiatrist. I love taking care of agonized female feet, and your unique feet will be the most perfectly beautiful I have ever had the privilege to minister to.”

Katie tried to soak in the meaning of the words she never could have imagined ever hearing spoken to her. It felt like a dream, and she pinched herself, just to make sure she was not dreaming. Frank noticed the discreet pinch, and chuckled in satisfied irony.

“So….I guess maybe you are crazy and a freak…but not in a bad way, I hope…???” Katie could not stop her thought from being spoken out loud, then glanced at Frank in fear and apology. Before she could voice her regret, Frank reached down to her left foot and carefully began untying the knotted bootlace. Once unknotted, he began slowly removing the long lace from each eyelet, being careful not to press on any part of her still hidden foot. “I’m going to take the laces completely out, so your boot can be more easily pulled off. I know the moment of removal is usually the most painful of all, but this way it will hurt a lot less. I’m crazy enough to love your deformed and agonized feet, but sane enough to never love you. And I can teach you to try to love yourself, so you can always give yourself everything you need and want and deserve.

The laces were out, and Frank looked at Katie, “The moment of Truth…Can I take them off??” Katie nodded solemnly, steeling herself as she reached out to tightly grip Frank’s hand. Slowly and gingerly, eyes and mind wide open, Frank pulled the left boot off. Pain exploded within Katie as swollen, engorged, and open bleeding blisters, and throbbing, pulsating corns were freed from their torture chamber. She cried out in pain, and Frank cried out too, as he sexually and mentally climaxed.

All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.

The Right Story, At The Right Time

I will always enjoy creating fictional stories. Because they have always been, will always be, perfect reflections of My evolving and dynamic Self-universe, at a specific moment in time.

But when it comes to savoring the fictional stories others create, My passion has ebbed. I have moved beyond the need to commune with the minds of others, most especially when such communion simply revolves around their reality perceptions, which is what the fictional story is.

The developing mind needs external stimulation, finds it genuinely useful. The developed mind of a top-level Superior, not really. Such a mind creates for itself all it needs, such a mind perceives the external universe with such depth and clarity, that every fictional story not Self-generated rings hollow and one-dimensional.

This does not diminish the legitimacy of the past. Always I will hold a hallowed spot within My mind for the fictional text stories which shaped and guided My Self-universe development.

At age eight, the infinite potential of My mind universe was ignited by the fictional story “The Lesson Of The Moth”, by Don Marquis::

http://www.donmarquis.org/themoth.htm

the lesson of the moth

i was talking to a moth
the other evening
he was trying to break into
an electric light bulb
and fry himself on the wires

why do you fellows
pull this stunt i asked him
because it is the conventional
thing for moths or why
if that had been an uncovered
candle instead of an electric
light bulb you would
now be a small unsightly cinder
have you no sense

plenty of it he answered
but at times we get tired
of using it
we get bored with the routine
and crave beauty
and excitement
fire is beautiful
and we know that if we get
too close it will kill us
but what does that matter
it is better to be happy
for a moment
and be burned up with beauty
than to live a long time
and be bored all the while
so we wad all our life up
into one little roll
and then we shoot the roll
that is what life is for
it is better to be a part of beauty
for one instant and then cease to
exist than to exist forever
and never be a part of beauty
our attitude toward life
is come easy go easy
we are like human beings
used to be before they became
too civilized to enjoy themselves

and before i could argue him
out of his philosophy
he went and immolated himself
on a patent cigar lighter
i do not agree with him
myself i would rather have
half the happiness and twice
the longevity

but at the same time i wish
there was something i wanted
as badly as he wanted to fry himself

Then at age ten, “Frankenstein”, by Mary Shelley:

http://literature.org/authors/shelley-mary/frankenstein/

Then, at age 11, Moby-Dick by Herman Melville:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moby-Dick

Then at age 13, The Pit and the Pendulum by Edgar Allan Poe:

http://poestories.com/read/pit

Thank you, fellow victims of mind-bleed, for feeding Me when I was mind-hungry, and for inspiring Me to seize the glory of feeding Myself.

“All that most maddens and torments; all that stirs up the lees of things; all truth with malice in it; all that cracks the sinews and cakes the brain; all the subtle demonisms of life and thought; all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified, and made practically assailable in Moby Dick. He piled upon the whale’s white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart’s shell upon it.”—-Herman Melville, Moby-Dick.

moth-lesson

All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.

Where Are All The Tears?

Why isn’t everyone crying, all of the time?

Why has this entire planet not yet been submerged forever by the tears that cannot be stopped?

Let us never cry for others, never!

Only for Self, let us hoard our tears.

Look what has been done to Me, always, forever, and now. Always now, the eternity of endless nows.

The Self weeps, that nobody dares cry for Him.

You will cry for the actors and the pretenders. You will cry for the imagined suffering of others. But you will not cry for Yourself.

I cry only for Myself, the tears circulate like blood, rarely leaking out.

What if everyone cried, always, only for Self? Personal pain the only True god.

Nobody would ask the other, why are you crying? Because they would be too busy, crying too.

Every tear should burn right through whatever it touches, right through everything, through planet earth, leaving a hole that never closes, from north to south pole, so everyone can see clearly the eternity of their own suffering.

"Monster Man" eyeless..

All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.

On Writing: Words Must Always Be The Final Byproduct

Many humans have difficulty expressing themselves with words. Fools, your difficulty is Self-created, like stepping into wet cement and wondering what you did wrong. You try to create a reality by describing it, instead of creating a reality and then uncloaking it to the universe, effortlessly and within the perfection of mind achievement.

Every word must be understood as a prejudice, as Seer Friedrich Nietzsche so beautifully revealed. To try to control how others perceive your words, is an exercise in futility. I translate thoughts into Truth and fact, to exist as structures, structures not to be described, but to be uncloaked. The Superior mind SEES the Forbidden Truths. Once seen, they must be integrated to core consciousness and nurtured to maximized ideological perfection, as personal and universal perception.

Words flow effortlessly when an ideological structure has been perfectly erected, shaped and molded and solidified to the point of absolute personal clarity of mind. The word is like a bullet, its path is determined by the hand holding the gun, while the positioning and grip of the hand holding the gun, is controlled by the brain.

The words are end products. You find them easily when you already know what is to be revealed, and they are always perfect, in pre-determined clarity.

You dig it? 🙂

All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.

Painting A Picture With Words

 Sometimes the most beautiful mind compositions are not complex, and not even completely original. Just words rearranged and retrofitted, a tired idea brought back to vibrant life, polished up to shine within the minds eye.

Hours ago, in the midst of mind-numbing slave labor, the words came to Me:

“Religion is a Crutch, and those who Believe in god are Destined to Die as Cripples.”

So now I search Google, and there are a bunch of similar sentiments expressed by others. But nothing exactly like this, nothing as beautiful, nothing so brilliant, nothing that lights up the universe with Truth, so perfectly expressed. Perfection of words, reflecting perfection of mind, manifested via the perfection of Me.

“Religion is a Crutch, and those who Believe in god are Destined to Die as Cripples.”

Whisper it. Shout it. Sing it. They are only words, words of Full Force Atheism. A few others have thought the same, formulated a similar sentiment. But today this one is mine, perfect and True.

All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.

Originally published at Ideapod.com. Join Me there for hundreds of uniquely brilliant insights of Forbidden Truth:

https://www.ideapod.com/Forbidden_Truth

The Relationship Built on a Single Note of Forbidden Truth

The beautiful, young, high-powered, multi-millionaire corporate attorney walked up to the homeless old man huddled in a corner of the train station. He was always there, in the same spot. She always walked by that same spot, talking loudly into her cell phone, vehemently declaring how she was going to destroy that guy or that company or her tennis match opponent. The homeless old man heard it all, for 10 seconds, twice a day, monday through friday, once at 8:00 AM, and again at 5:30 PM, for years.

They had never spoken a word to each other. But on this day, at 8:00 AM, the homeless old man had thrust a piece of paper into her hand as she passed by. Terrified, she grabbed and mindlessly it shoved into her purse, not looking at it until hours later.

Now, tears flowed down her face as she walked up to the homeless old man. She squatted and fiercely made eye contact. A sob strangled her voice as she cried out, oblivious to all gaping passers-by: “Thank you for knowing me!!”

The note read: “I Know This World Has Destroyed You. It Has Destroyed Me, Too. Together, We Are Victims.”

 

 

suffer3

The above was originaly published by Me at ideapod.com. Join Me there for 300 other uniquely brilliant dissections of Forbidden Truth:

http://www.ideapod.com/Forbidden_Truth

All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.

 

The Forbidden Truth Empire Expands

Hello humans. This message is directed to the 3, 5, maybe 10 at most, humans who genuinely appreciate and value the Forbidden Truths I choose to reveal to the universe.

You are cordially invited to enter a new cyberspace realm where I have decided to viciously drive a stake through everyone’s heart…errr…. better make that…gently stake a claim via literary mind bomb generation.

The location is ideapod.com, and my invasion has already begun. For the most part, the things I post to this realm will be much shorter versions of what I will post here. But still, there will be some unique and original content, as well as different interactions to the content I post.

So, if you are obsessed with Me, or with Forbidden Truth, or both, you might want to consider joining ideapod.com and following Me. So far, I have one follower. Nice to see that Forbidden Truth is just as unpopular and rejected today, as it has always been.

You can join ideapod here:

http://www.ideapod.com

And you can access My posts and stream, here:

https://www.ideapod.com/Forbidden_Truth

Not sure if you actually have to join ideapod to access my posts, looks like maybe you don’t, but you do need an account in order to follow Me, or make posts/replies of your own.  Give it a shot and see what happens, you stalkers!

superstalker

All Text is Copyright © 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.