Metaphysics: World, Life, Self, Death

All that is pure is unmixed: time that flows like unmixed wine through the veins, the liquer hidden in the objects of perception, knowledge of self. The earth takes up the cup and says, "Trinken, trinken": she pours her libation over the sand, and indian thistles crop and cut the moonlight's pearl. From the seminal moment genesis of Ocean, Earth, and Ouranus united as a single stroke of blue on crimson. World is what burns (the stroke as a burst of lightning) and I'm the empyreal flame. The mystical vision: I entered the chamber and the lute was playing, the nymphs were in time, this pulsing my own heart, the chamber myself as I entered into the nymphs. Ejaculation out of the self turns back on and becomes another self: vision supervenes on the other. World too forms a unity by and around my vision encompassing world. I am vital breath. Each time I breathe, world is reborn, world breathes and fills itself with self, myself. I become world, world becomes me: it is something that I wear, I wear it out—ascent into the unconscious. What is the unconscious? Death, the underlying, just as dead matter lies under the living. Life presupposes death—not because death is the antithesis of life—rather the condition for and from which lives arise. Death is the 'not-life' from which life springs like the globe of the eye through which the eye can see, the form of that globe (as if the crystal chamber were formed of necessity into a sphere flickering with the play of various colors reflecting the tint of the walls and shapes spherical and ensphered, not sphere-like in themselves, but made into the sphere and unfolding as a sphere wherever the vision lingers, so that these forms are our signature on substance, the ultimate expression of self). Life is the vision, but a vision only imparted by and to be perfected in death. Death is the last condition of the no-longer past