Cooshay-hermit
The minds passing by are pushing me. Like the blood I carry within me. Timelessness is wide and wide, all the way to the horizon. You don't have to go anywhere, because there's nowhere to go. Nothing will happen, because there is nothing to happen. Timelessness enters through the eyes and ears. The crowd looks at the street. The tangibleness of parallel reality. I enter it like a liberation. Step and one more step. Next to those entangled in inventions.
See the whole, Cooshay-hermit. Thinking good - you establish evil. Thinking of love - you establish hatred. Thinking joyfully, you bring suffering. You have received self-awareness, but this is not about you. See the whole, Cooshay-the hermit.
Emptiness of meat on the bone. Like dumplings without meat. Like black pepper for hatred. Cardamom for desires. Pure for selfishness. I stopped being a woman, a mother. I killed myself, I stopped being a mother. The scalp wavy. Femininity has gone like water. In a place where it was funny and bizarre. I cut off the umbilical cord of generally accessible reality. It was my child.
I threw away my ears. I took out the knobs. With the timelessness of meat with bone. I left the liver and pancreas. In the delicatessen elevation of the meat temple. I went out onto the street. The void embraces meats, somewhere near Lidl. My tissues are empty. My breasts are empty. They are parallel, maturing in the cocoons of the universe. The sky of double blue - the feelings I tried. When I juxtaposed the emotionality of herring salad with the desire for meat and bone. On the street, phenomenally, thoughts imploded during precise breathing.
And for the rest of my life, in which I identified myself with someone I was not. I didn't have to control my body because I couldn't change anything anyway. The body makes me compulsively. I was a mother, a wife, a woman when I rejected myself on Piotrkowska Street, the main street of the city. It was there that I discovered my back eye. From the dual nature - integrated in parallel reality: it's not mine, although I can hear it. It's not mine, although I see it. It's not mine, although I loved it.
Catatonic stimulation of vaginal mucosa. I am multi-person, one million people, one billion people. In the parallel reality I dissolved the whole western psychology. Somewhere between dairy products and alcohol. On the shelves in a hypermarket. Entangled in humanity. Meat on the bone handles unconsciously, crossing the street. I am not in me, because everyone is in me. I don't eat, everyone else eats for me. I don't love my children, everyone else loves them. I don't breathe, everyone else rapes my lungs.
False image of the environment in a conventional present day, in a hospital on a city street. Through the cervical highway, the illusion of time perpetuates the readiness to spot the pure mind, from the first trimester of the embryo. The Cooshay-hermit is only a part of a larger whole. Just like the individualised consciousness of hepatocytes of the liver. Multi-person, being one with all. The Cooshay-hermit will give birth. Producing time per kilogram. By progenitur.
At first it's a bit strange to see a world where I'm not present. Experiencing parallel reality, they become something new when time is a state of mind. Deactivating, vaginal enzyme Pin1 - in the parallel world time does not flow. Where there is no sequence of events, they are all now. Or not at all. Supra-epidermal obsessions of the mammary gland - among events without meanings, where an urban street hits the head: the pavement of no_investigation, the house of no_do_residence, the lungs of no_do_breathing, the bench of no_seeing, hot-dog no_do_eating, the eyes no_look.
Music is a state of mind. With the timelessness of shunyata. Without time you don't have to go anywhere. The moment doesn't end or start. It is present all the time. The only noticeable value. The universe is music. The universe does not go anywhere. Movement without time exists, but only from nowhere. The body hurts. Meat with bone attacked by toxins of parasites. These are emotional roundworms. Trichinella thinks. It hurts when it hurts badly and it hurts when it hurts well. Digested from the inside. And to the heart with a rape of arrhythmia. The universe rubs its eyes. These are my eyes.
Transcendence of bone-in meat. An existence that lasts in the ever-changing now. Time is only an emotion, between memory and imagination. When there is no time, death does not matter. When there is no time, birth does not matter. Beginning and end do not matter. From the entangled psychosphere. In parallel reality, the beginning of a new consciousness. A world without the supremacy of humanity. Post-humanistic existence. Nietzschean mind of the XXII century. Contemporary people must die. Their space is shrinking. Only in the emptiness of shunyata can the perspective of final development be seen. A new mind. Only a few have an insight into parallel reality. Without humanity. It is a transcendence of meat and bone.
I heard a tram outside the window even though I wasn't in the room. I heard human voices outside the window in a room where I wasn't there. Next to the conventional, accessible to everyone, I experience a parallel reality. It has the same point of reference - matter. However, it differs in form. It is generalizing and asemantic. I see it or just hear it. Behind the wall someone hits the meat. They knock down the meat with the bone. He slices the meat. Frys the meat. Blood is pouring from chops.
Cooshay-hermit calms the mind. Still a moment and ceases to be human at all. The void fills. It changes the image of reality. Blood in veins is indifferent. A person leaves the body. Human nature is extinguished in the mind. Only the part of it that is a witness remains. This one - the Seer. This one - Persistent. This one - Present. Crystal-clear mind. It is a mechanical recorder. It is an exposed film. A mirror that reflects the crowd and the street. The Cooshay-hermit experiences a pure mind. He is no longer a prisoner of the human brain. He is no longer a prisoner of humanity. Heated receptors, crazy neurons. Shrinking intestines and dispersed liver. Emptiness of shunyata is still perceived by the mind. Cooshay-hermit loves noumeny with platonic love.
Emptiness of nibbana. In it the lack of time changes the way of seeing reality. Time is only a human illusion. Apart from the mind of man, time does not exist. Theories are being rewritten by physicists.
19:10 Cooshay-hermit's mind calms down and slows down. 19:23 stops producing thoughts. 19:36 while remaining thoughtless - the area of the observed reality expands. Cooshay-hermit sees everything at once. In this state the postanimal mind of the hermit Cooshay experiences the real reality. This is the absolute reality of shunyata. It has no human properties. When the ego disappears completely. 19:51 self-awareness as a product of the ego is still absent. What remains is a mind that does not judge, does not recognize objects, people, situations, does not give meaning. Time is the product of the ego. 0 20:00 Cooshay-the hermit still sees that time does not exist. There is still no place to go, because there is no such need. Every sense used by people breaks down. Any search for meaning becomes meaningless. There is nothing in the space occupied by the body. Human reality contaminated by time. In those who follow without names, without properties, without purpose. Time at 20:27 still does not exist.

 

 

The image of the world in shunyata is clear and unambiguous. The thesis that the mind disintegrates completely after death is not contradictory to shunyata. In fact, people do not have any minds. The hermit Cooshay has recognized its proper mind. Only this mind is actually existing. Hidden, subconscious. The rest is an illusion. Consciousness is only an illusion induced by a sequence of identification signals, the ego is only an illusion in the process of permanent identification, self-awareness is only an emotion induced by the impulses of identification. Only the proper mind is real, the subconscious mind, to which there is no access. The Cooshay-hermit has no control over it. It cannot have. He functions according to his own rules. The Cooshay-hermit can only observe him. Although even then it is only one more form of it. In shunyata there is absolutely nothing about reincarnation.
Consumers of humanity.