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You are a walking skeleton. You might dress yourself up in fancy skin and muscle tissue, ego and personality, but that's not what you are. You know what you are. You are a creature constructed from bones. You are born, you have sex, you party, and then you die. That's it, and it is beautiful, and it is enough. The skeleton is a shell of a human life. After you die, everything is stripped back. The flesh rots. The ego rots. The personality rots. Revealing the core of you. The bones of you. The truth of you.
Everything else is just the details. Don't kid yourself that you're anything more than that. A chattering skull and a bunch of bones, wrapped in warm flesh, animated for a little while, soon to be dust in the air and dirt in the ground. Sooner than you think.
Don't get me wrong. Malkuth is Kether in its densest form. Everything that is, is God and is divine. Those bones and that dirt are holy objects. But that doesn't change the essential nature of you. You want to eat, you want to drink, you want to fuck. You have a limited time in which to do it. When the flesh, the ego, the personality whither away, shrivel up, and fall from you; there'll be no more time to do those things. They are your function. Your worldly purpose. Don't waste your chances. The clock is ticking.
Never forget that you're just a cold, empty, hollow skeleton waiting to happen. Never forget that this is all there is, and you have to seize every single fucking moment and opportunity that comes to you. Death is coming. Enjoy yourself. It's later than you think. |
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