#emptiness

[darknessknowsmebyname]

[feral-ballad]

Donika Kelly, from Bestiary: Poems; “Archaeology”

[mournfulroses]

Mitsuharu Kaneko, from a poem titled "Emptiness," featured in From the country of Eight Islands; an anthology of Japanese Poetry

[petaltexturedskies]

Sylvia Plath, from "Three Women: A Poem for Three Voices"

[sickfrr]

Sometimes I'll type out a really long, emotional text to someone and then just delete it. The act of writing it is enough, sending it is pointless. It's like screaming into a pillow, the pillow doesn't care, but my throat is raw anyway.

[tazvene]

Neville Goddard REALITY SHIFTED TWICE!

A short excerpt from the lecture I'm about to show you:

"Now, I had stepped into a world just as real as this. I am telling you, there are worlds within worlds within worlds, and they are all here . . right here . . just like turning on a radio. You turn it ever so slightly, and you have a new wave length and a new station coming in, bringing in something entirely different. And they are not interfering with each other! And these worlds are all here now and they are peopled, just as we are peopling this world, and they are just as real as this world. It’s terrestrial"

guys OMG please read this to the end, it is just amazing how Neville describes his experiences, although he says they were accidental, it lines up with our modern idea of reality shifting to a T!!!

The first one reads like a minishift. starting with this initial "dream flow" and then it solidifying into its own reality, him grounding through touch, and he shifts back because he panicked after being shocked back by a freaky critter (too real)

His second one is a little crazier, he's already fully grounded in the reality he just shifted to, goes back and forth between rooms* and scares the shittt out of people living in it by telling them its a dream while he attempts reality checks and passes every time. Once he accepts that this reality is solid, he tries to wake up but can't! He only successfully shifts back by imagining himself back in his bed. When he wakes up he's met with sleep paralysis

I'll let you read these awesome stories for yourself now ^^

"I stumbled upon this one day in a dream. In my dream I came upon this huge, big pillar . . a pile driven into the ocean, and the bridge that it formerly supported was gone now. Only the piles remained. And I knew I was dreaming, and I figured to myself if I held that pile and I could touch it, if it seemed to me solidly real, what I am going to do: I’m going to hold onto that pile in the dream. I know it’s a dream, but I am going to hold that as solidly as I can and compel myself to awake holding the pile. Well, I did. I held the pile with all my might. I said, “Now, Neville, you know you are sleeping. You know that you are dreaming now. So awake!” And I awoke in the water, actually holding that pile and I am standing up in what formerly I knew to be a dream. It ceased to be a dream; it’s real. I’m in a world just as real as this and here I am, holding this enormous pile, and it’s in the East Indies (not the West Indies where I was born) . . it was in the East Indies, a very primitive area. And then some animal came down to the beach . . a strange. . looking creature, and at that moment I was a little bit … I was panicky. In that moment of shaking emotion I awoke on my bed in New York City.

But I discovered that secret of feeling. So, he said: “Come close, come near, that I may feel you, my son.” He heard the voice; he said: “Your voice is the voice of Jacob. Come near and let me see really if you are Esau. And he did it by feeling.

So, lying on my bed one night right here in Beverly Hills many years ago (it must have been fourteen or fifteen years ago) I suddenly became aware that I am seeing what I shouldn’t see. I am looking into the most marvelous interior of a plush hotel, it seemed that way to me. So, consciousness followed vision and I found myself in the room, but I knew I was on the bed. So I came back to the bed. I am still seeing the interior of the room, and I went back into that room. I came back again. I must have done it twelve or twenty times. It was fun going into the room; and the room was just like this . . real, and then I came back to the bed.

Now I said: “l am now going to explore. Regardless of consequences I am going to explore.” So I went into the room. It seemed like a room thirty-by-twenty from the bed, but when I entered it with the decision to explore, the room closed in upon me and became a third of itself. Say, it became ten-by-seven, and I found it was a dressing room for a huge, big suite, beautifully done, but it wasn’t yet occupied. It was there to be occupied, but the room at the moment . . that is, the suite . . was not occupied. And I thought: “Well, now I will go through the door.” I didn’t go through like some gossamer; I opened the door with my hand and I walked right through that doorway. I was solidly real to myself. Then I walked down the corridor, and the corridor that I walked down was intersected by the main corridor and all the lights were on. And two ladies were coming down that corridor, the main one. But I knew this thing began as a dream. So, I knew that all ends run true to origins, therefore if the origin is a dream, this is a dream. So I said to the ladies: “Ladies, this is a dream. This whole vast world is a dream.” Then they were afraid of me.

Who wouldn’t be afraid of a man who suddenly appears at a place where you are walking and tells you this whole vast world is a dream? You would think he’s nuts . . he is insane. So, they thought I was insane and they got just as far as they could from me and walked right next to the wall, duck-style . . one behind the other, looking at me very suspiciously. Then I saw this object hanging from space. It reminded me of a similar object I had seen in a friend’s home in North Hollywood. So, I said to them: “Look, see this?” And I held it, and to my surprise it isn’t gossamer. This is not an after-image. This is not a memory image. This is real. The thing is solid. Well, I held it; and by this time, they were way down. They took one last look as they looked back at me and then darted into the main room. And here I am, standing alone holding onto this thing. I said to myself: “Neville, you know this is a dream. The origin is a dream; the end is a dream. Come on, wake up!” I closed my eyes to the obvious and held this thing here, and I couldn’t … I opened my eyes again I am still standing there. I said: “How am I going to get back to my room in Beverly Hills?” I didn’t know what … there was no place I could go to take me back there, but I remembered: Feeling is the secret.

I am holding this here now, and it’s real. It is solid. I am solid. They are solid. They heard my voice. And I walked down and every step was solidly real as walking here now. So, I imagined that my head was on a pillow; and when I could feel a pillow under my head while I am standing, I suddenly felt myself in a horizontal position, and my head is on a pillow. Then all of a sudden I could feel that pillow, but I was cataleptic. I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t move a hand. I couldn’t move a finger. Here I am, a living being in a dead body! So I said to myself: “They will find the body tomorrow morning, and they’ve got to cut it up,” because I am insured for a little bit, and to prove that nobody took my life they have to cut it up to find out why he died. They always have to ask that question, and they give it a name. If they can’t find it they have to give it a name anyway.

So, here I am. I couldn’t open my eyes; I couldn’t move my hand. In about fifteen or twenty seconds (it seemed much longer than that) my little finger, I could move it, and then I could move my hand a bit. I still couldn’t open my eyes. We were sleeping in a double bed so I pushed my hand out . . my left hand . . and I could feel the warmth of my wife’s body. At that, I knew I was back on my bed. In another fifteen or twenty seconds I could, with great effort, open the lids of my eyes, and here came all the familiar objects . . on the walls, on the bureau, everything returned to consciousness.

Now, I had stepped into a world just as real as this. I am telling you, there are worlds within worlds within worlds, and they are all here . . right here . . just like turning on a radio. You turn it ever so slightly, and you have a new wave length and a new station coming in, bringing in something entirely different. And they are not interfering with each other! And these worlds are all here now and they are peopled, just as we are peopling this world, and they are just as real as this world. It’s terrestrial and it doesn’t…you don’t have to walk to it. I was on the bed. I seemed to walk into it . . I would say … what? ten feet away, but the same area permeated the bed, and the bed did not obstruct it; and that world into which I stepped did not obstruct the house that I lived in, in Beverly Hills. It’s all here . . the whole vast world . . worlds within worlds within worlds!

So, I tell you: “facts” are the Flood. That’s the deluge. There was no other kind of flood. We are actually inundated with the “facts of life.” And these facts . . we change them every day. Today this is the cause of so-and-so. Tomorrow that’s not so; it is another cause we have found, and the next day another cause. But while we haven’t found the next cause, we believe that to be the fact, and we worship the facts. So I tell you: all things are in the human Imagination. “Man is all imagination; and God is man, and exists in us and we in Him.” [Blake, from “Annotations to Berkeley] “The Eternal Body of man is the imagination. And that is God Himself.” [Blake, from “The Laocoon”]1

-Neville Goddard, from the lecture "The Flood is Still Upon Us"

you can find the full lecture online free :))) happy shifting!

[thirdity]

If you have patience enough to search, maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of what you’re looking for. And when you find it, you’ll probably be disappointed. It isn’t the devil. It isn’t the State. It isn’t a magical child. It’s the void.

Roberto Bolaño, Between Parentheses