Note Details
- Stage: seed 🌱
- Type: poem
- Topics: consciousness, rebellion, ascension, surrealism
A surrealist prose poem about the false ascension of “luminous ones” and the chthonic uprising that reclaims authentic liberation.
Now we will be free
Now comes the day to ascend! We saw the luminous ones as they reached their highest ascension points, finally free, the rebels are free!
The rebels had ascended in all their transcendent beauty. Now they appear on the cover of “Time” magazine, now they are going to burning man festival and flying past on huge strange spacecraft to Mars. Now was the time of singularity as they put on their lightbodies!
But we saw them and we knew what was coming. They rushed in to enlightenment too quickly. They had never been nurtured by circles within circles of earthbeings.
It was whispered to me by a moray eel that they had secretly become deranged and would cut down the evolutionary tree behind them once they launched themselves from it.
We heard spoken by our biomachinic prophets and in our ancient myths of the human factory farms and the genocides to come.
So we took out our hidden mutant weapons, designed carefully over decades and struck down their lightbodies. We eradicated the false gods. We summoned up a gigantic fist from the chthonic depths to smash them to pieces
But strangely we found it wasn’t even necessary to strike a blow. We just stormed the TV cameras and pointed them away from the ascended ones and they withered away.
Or we held up a wooden sign which had the word: “assassin” painted on it and they trampled their comrades down trying to escape. We practised “total camouflage for total war” in the words of Salvador Dali.
Today we break through the tv screen.
Now we descend into the pleroma
Today we break through this computer screen you are holding, like a phantasm
Today the ascended soil erosion gods will be cast down.
Today is the day the archons will fall
Today the cyborg egregores will be defeated
Now we will be free