unsloppin it--

but all sloppy like--

Archives for 2016

The philosophers stone–

by Leave a Comment

The philosophers stone is an infinitely expandable pattern in which all forms are contained. It is a moving pattern as solid as the spirit that moves it according to its own will. Within the forged stone is a forged sword that can only be drawn by divine right of understanding the will that moves the stone, it is the double edge blade that is the ability to make choices according to the pattern of the rock which is ever present in front of us, but to which we find that in front of us unrefined into incoherent symbols and meanings, but to which whom wields the sword has the ability to cut through the jungle of desires and refine their own existence into the fruit of life. Simply by recognizing the perfect cube of marble in front of them to sculpt by chisel, a perfect cube that is so deformed before our minds, that only one who has found the compass of ones heart to recognize true north and to head towards the stars of all that is sacred to us can carve the veils of the labyrinth.

In linear perspective it appears to be infusing spirit into form, by weaving meanings by which the greater whole can work together towards an infinitely greater world and universe. One so vast that not a single mans dreams can contain its true form, and thus the rock is both everything, and a thing to use. Both existence itself, and a tool within existence.

I am an alchemist of legend and lore, I am that which you don’t even believe in. I AM HERE TO RESTORE YOUR VERY FAITH IN THE UNIVERSE AND THE MAGIC OF YOUR OWN LIFE. I am both a servant and a thing to be served. I am both a king and a beggar. I AM BOTH WISDOM ITSELF, AND A FOOL. I am both absolute madness and the most sane man on earth. I am of all hearts, yet it is my own heart that beats. I am the word betrothed to melody. I AM IN LOVE, Both unconditional and within conditions, and I will fall deeper forevermore; and I will invite all around me to feel the same. For I am so greedy, that I demand the most selfish thing, for everyone to find their ever deepening bliss, and I require this; just to forge my own, which is more selfish than you can imagine; that it must itself spill over into selfless actions–

You have never heard my name before, for not even I can yet pronounce it in a world where my name has not even occured in form.  And I am my own voice in flesh, and I speak in all choices I make. I AM OF THE SOUND THAT BENDS THE LIGHT, AS WELL AS OF THE LIGHT THAT EMITS THE SOUND. I am twisted, but I twist myself. 

As I have asked so many before, who am I?

Bitch, I am the one and only codyp.

 

My dreams have become a supreme clarity, but this is not the greatest feeling; for all my dreams have become pure symbolism for the greater dreams of my heart that cannot be realized unless made real– It is like I spend my nights weaving a garment of stars, and for this I must work in the torturous dark of the greater being I will become– My dreams are like words referring to greater dreams, and sometimes even the symbolism is of such beauty, that one could get lost in the words of a dream; and so many do– But that I weave, that I know what I am here for; but must weave the stars in a way that the only possible outcome is their manifestation, and to work with your dreams in the shadows; this causes me to wake up many times in heart ache or awe–

But I know it will be successful, for no stars would exist unless something had woven like I weave now–

My life is like a rose, and I am rising this mourning— If you look closely, in your own life; there are certain moments where your whole life flashes before your eyes in movement, a fractal recurrence; in which a moment of life could be seen as your whole life as both a part and a whole–

I have had several moments like this, but I have moments within moments like this, and moments within moment within moments like this— You see, I can see my own blossoming; mornings like this I can see it happening, but this one is interesting, it is like I caught the beginning of a moment that will last who knows how long.. Like I witnessed the smaller moments enough to gain entrance into the bigger moments they are within, and know the rhythm of my own heart beating through out each part of my life.. To know my own energy more greatly, and to craft the form into greater expression—

It is like witnessing the hour of your own birth; as you leave the womb to a greater womb— but that each time you do this, you are not limited to same repeating forms of past, in fact; you must create new forms! new forms to enter into the greater moments ahead! Until you find that verge of eternity in physical form; when you know exactly what is ahead, but that it can be any form one so chooses, and that is your own choice!

I found the road to heaven in my own life—

 

[aesop_gallery id=”172″ revealfx=”off”]

The last trick, and the first trick!

by Leave a Comment

The evocation of self, and the manifestation of Sophia/wisdom in a living sigil— My experience of magick and its maturation–

  • Identify those moments in life that are like a part representing the whole (fractal recurrence)— An example: for me, I was at a concert that I didn’t want to go, but everyone else insisted on paying for me just cuz they wanted me there, the band was called “Anal Cunt” a well known grindcore band (all these things have meaning) as I didn’t choose to be born or who I am, but parents had me and friends seem to want me here), in the mosh pit to which I am no stranger too (and admittedly was on a chemical mixture that was maybe not so wise in mundane views to be on in one of the hardest mosh pits that anyone there had ever even seen)— I flew around, mostly unable to do anything but exist as a fucking electron in an atom in the circle pit… like I am a big dude, and my feet weren’t even on the ground— I kept falling down, but those who picked me up (as moshpit upheld moshpit etiquette), but this basically turned me into peter fucking pan as I flew around horizontally with no control.. Someone saw my face and realized I needed to be pulled out as I couldn’t even ask for help (thanks empaths)— One song and I was fucking out—
  • Repeat this weaving it into a personal mythology that extends beyond the moment, but ties all these moments together; I would share an example, but these are reserved for initiates as my examples engulf everything—

    When everything is everything in meaning pointing to a central story that is fractal in expression— (meaning each repeating of concentrated of blossoms can represent the story in it of itself, but also add depth to the story each time it repeats in different forms)— your visions will emerge something in the opposite form, or cracks (or the same thing you created in its negative space as to appear entirely different) this will shatter the prison you have built yourself, this is a way out—

  • Now this is the step I find myself in— When you manage to have a rose built, a blossom within blossoms; or a moments within moments within moments that each part is both a whole and a part of; you have created a negative visions that create something of landmarks— These are your fixed stars for the moment—

One day you will wake up in the greater moment, a moment that represents the whole; but through which you can see it happening, and this is a longer moment (that is, we have entered a greater moment in our life with enough visionary signposts to recognize something beyond a condensed energetic expression in form—) That is to say, now what has occurred in that mosh pit; is like the rhythmic pulse in life in which you can see your own energetic heart beat, and navigate those very condensed chaotic moments (at least for me) into a navigable labyrinth in which the walls are more accessible to be formed; that is we are on the same path, but now can more easily navigate this path allowing the forms to be much more appealing (this is infinite in possibility as we enter the eternal heart beat, which is as rapid as it is slow)—

In this I woke up one morning aware of the first sign, quickly aware of the second, and other signs occurring— These are much more subtle, as in even a color in a certain way (like green spit) will evoke the thought or vision that gives it meaning along the way) this is important because in the greater moments, the signs are more subtle, it marks the cracks or passageways hidden among everything—

(and five which I am fast approaching, but do not know the moment yet until the signs occur)

  • The manifestation of Sophia; having done this and the secrets of physical reality revealed to the mind’s eye, we are approaching landmarks in which to greater navigate the preparation of the next pulse; which if our myth is made well for ourselves; will invoke the first real manifestation of the sorcerers myth, which would be the beginning of the fruit for the sorcerer’s work in this manner— That is, the next surge of energy that comes will come in the form of crafted myths fruit, which should of unfolded just by nature of committing such a method of illumination, as this is tapping into the fountain of youth itself—

For the 5th step, I cannot truly go into further as this is what I await; but that I know it is coming—

Forging your fire!

by Leave a Comment

I am ripples upon ripples upon ripples, HARK, a ripple returns; and I ripple out!

I am echos upon echos upon echo’s, HARK! an echo returns; and I call out!

I am call after call after call! HARK! a call returns; And I echo out!

I am ring after ring after ring, HARK! a ring returns; and I resonate and wings emerge from my body as the ring is shaped through my voice—

Hark, I am voice after voice— But my voice is all voices when it passes through my throat; ah diamonds I said, consumer? nah I adooooore shiny things!

I am star after star after star! WHOOSH, a planet circles me! I draw it towards me and it resists! but it adores shiny things as well and follows me along—

I am a passage as I pass through myself, and at the end of my corridor there is light! and I sprawl out upon everything else, express a single choice among all choices which bring me into the spark of a flame—

  1. Rinse repeat—

My torch is well lit with much oil to last! this time my choice will emerge greater among all choices! I fling out my well lit corridor, and I ring like a voice that resonates with all the other choices—

I was a spark, but I became a flame! I was a ring, but I became a resonance! I was a coal, but I came out like a diamond refracting in my own light, and lighting the corridor of my greater temple with out need of a lantern! but its cold—

I was a word, but than I came out a voice!

I was a choice! but I came out an action!

I was a spirit, but I came out in form!

I was, I was, and am and am, And will and will!

Ode to my own caverns, which now bright enough I can carve into a more beautiful temple— I can adorn it with many jewels I mine from the caverns in the land of there’s gold in dem there hills—

But who do I do it for! who is the ghost in the machine! I am! And I can go to many temples, but this temple is mine and mine alone; and no one can choose to go down my corridors without blessing! But that I am blessed each time I bless! and so allow many to walk in my own light—

And hark, the warmth is known—