The Type-I Garbage World is made up purely of pressure of either the one sort or the other, I commented wisely to myself. We are either lured onwards from ahead by pernicious lies or we’re driven ruthlessly from behind by equally insidious falsehoods. It doesn’t matter which way round it works – we are screwed either way.
Do you ever wonder at the terrible indignities that are forced upon consciousness, the pitiful roles that it is compelled to take up? Was there ever anything more dreadful to observe than this? I don’t believe myself to be a particularly compassionate person but there are times when I encounter consciousness in such terribly undignified roles that I am quite overcome by feelings of sorrow. Where is the sense in it, I ask? Where is the sense?
You know as well as I do that there is no sense to it. You know as well as I do that it is pitiful and grotesque caricature and nothing more. Who is the designer behind this fantastical and yet pitiable spectacle, I frequently ask myself. And yet I know full well that there is no designer. I’m not one of these people that think that everything is running according to some kind of design. It’s best is to face that, wouldn’t you say? It’s best to face it straightaway. Everywhere we look we see consciousness disguised, in all these forlorn guises, acting out the most hideously grotesque dramas. Grotesque because they are so terribly pointless. You’d like to think that there is a point to it, I daresay, but what point could there possibly be? Who are you trying to kid?
It’s all conducted on the basis of an immense misunderstanding, you see. It is conducted on the basis of the biggest misunderstanding ever. What’s our allegiance to these ludicrous roles that we are compelled to play? Do you ever ask yourself that? What do we imagine now we are going to obtain in return for this blind loyalty of ours? Will we receive our reward in heaven? Would it all be worth it in the end? Is it all part of the divine plan?
They’ll tell you that you see. They’ll tell you this to shut you up. They’ll tell you anything to shut you up. They’ll tell you all sorts of hideous nonsense. First we take up these grotesque roles and then they come along and tell us that God has plans for us. They tell us that God has plans for these farcical roles of ours! Did you ever hear the like? Did you ever hear the like?
The Type-I Pressure World is made up entirely of garbage, which we are stuck to. Some of the garbage seems pretty to us, some strikes us as being ugly and repulsive. Some rubbish is nice and some is horribly unpleasant, but it’s still all rubbish. You can have a conversation about this if you like but I can promise you that there is no point. Once you start thinking that there is a point then that’s it for you! This is no talking to you then, no talking to you at all. You can forget about it. You’re lost, do understand that? You’re lost, you’re gone – you’ve been sucked up into the unwholesome filth of the Garbage World.
‘What are you doing here?’ you ask me, full of concern. ‘I’m doing the things I have to do’, I always reply. ‘And why are doing these things?’ you ask. ‘For what reason do you strive and strain to accomplish these meaningless tasks?’ Again, I reply, ‘Because I have to’. ‘And who are you?’ you ask, the compassion obvious on your strangely luminous yellow face. ‘I’m the one who has to do the thing’, I reply grimly. I’m the one who has to do the thing. I’m the one who has to do the thing. I’m the one who has to do the thing. It’s always so very important to do the thing, isn’t it? isn’t that what they’ll tell you?
You will encounter consciousness in many strange guises on your path but you won’t get very far with it, I warn you. You can try as hard as you like, but you won’t get very far. You won’t get very far at all…
