When The Glory Is Gone

When the glory is gone from where it belongs then it adheres to the squalid, to the unworthy. It adheres to the wretched things that we have made, it adheres to the wretched, sordid pseudo-worlds that we have – in our perversity – created. The misplaced glory transforms into a sticky type of residue, it transforms into the stickiest type of glue, a type of glue that we cannot escape from. For this reason the squalid and the unworthy becomes our fate. No one knows this better than I, yet still I am not free from the curse. Still I am not free.


‘Why do we do this?’ you ask. Why do we create these sordid worlds for ourselves? And why – having made them – do we then feel drawn to enter them and live lives of unbearable misery within them? Why is there this hypnosis, why is there this grim inevitability to our actions? How can it be explained?


It is as if, once we have fashioned the construct, once having created the artificial world, we lose our own will; it is as if we lose all independent consciousness. In this way become victims of the construct; in this way become sad creatures of the pseudo-world that we have created. Our souls become trapped, and so we lose all free well. Soulless creatures can have no free will.


Hypnotised we are, incapable of seeing what we are doing, incapable of seeing ourselves for what we truly are. It is as if once having created the world, we are compelled by some dark power to enter it. We become somnambulists, we become sleepwalkers. We helplessly obey the laws of the dreadful dark world that we have created and these laws spell our doom. What else could they spell?


This much I can understand. This much is obvious enough, I would say. To enter one of these worlds is to be absolutely controlled by it. To enter one of these worlds is to be defined by it. These are dark worlds and no freedom exists within them. Freedom is the one thing that can’t exist within these worlds – the lack of freedom is what gives them their existence. Lack of freedom is what makes them into worlds (which really they are not). They are false worlds. There are evil inverted constructs. They are soul traps.


We create these traps for the soul, we create these cages for the spirit, and then we disappear within them leaving no trace behind. What more terrible thing could there be than this? What greater horror could there be than this? No worse fate could there be for a soul than to be trapped, no fate more grim than for the spirit to be caged. If there is one thing that none of us want, it is this. This is the Nightmare of Nightmares.


We do the worst possible thing we could ever do, therefore – we create a soul trap and then we walk into it, we create a false world and then we enter through this grim one-way portal, we enter through this portal of no return. What anguish, what unspeakable anguish! What horror, what incalculable horror! Even to think about this terrible thing brings unspeakable anguish, even to think of the mere possibility of it brings about torment beyond our power to endure. We create a dark door, and then we walk through it.


Why do we do it? Why do we do it? The worst possible thing, the worst possible thing. The Horror of all Horrors. The Nightmare of all Nightmares. Firstly you create the dark door and then – unable to help yourself – you step through it. To step through that door is to be lost. Who knows when you might find a way out again? How many aeons of hopeless suffering will you have to bear?


This is the Trap of Traps, the Cage of Cages. It is a doorway to unutterable suffering, the doorway into unbelievable sorrow. Such terrible sorrow, such terrible sorrow. The heart would break within you to think of it. The heart would break within you to think of this sorrow – no matter how many tears you were to shed it would still not be enough. It will never be enough.








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