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60
We are angels of constructed
thoughts (of our own concepts); our thoughts sense
ourselves as animal entities, in relation to which
we are -- Spirits; these entities vaguely sense
that which was implanted in the senses of beings of
lunar life; they bear unawakened
dreams: awakening to
life is a walk through the corridors of dreams;
this is -- the path of initiation into the
conditions of our reality:--
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-- the
first stage of initiation is: waves lapped at the
cold lap of Luna
("lin-len-lon"); here we
radiate thoughts; --
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-- the second stage is:
we are all just Maias,
minglings, meander by, minutes, moments, movements,
fountains (of the life of thought and mind
outside of us); it took flight (we -- stream off)
--
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-- (via concentration thought
comes alive outside of us: we do not think; we are
thought of, thinking is in us: in this way the
angels sensed themselves at the instant of our
separation; we radiated from the angels; and we --
radiate thoughts) --
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-- minglings,
meander, moments (fountains of
streaming vapor are noticeable to the embryos); the
representation of mingles -- imaio, imaho, imago:
it's mine, what's mine; surviving time, the stream
is mine, mingles of involvements
inside oneself; and this is mimicry,
mien, mangling, manipulation
&emdash;
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-- the third stage is:
the mangling of what's mine, of
minglings (having mimicry) is the first
mental opinion; it is -- mien;
a mimical gesture: from animalia to
anima.
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Concentration is -- a pathway to
meditation; meditation is not wandering of thought,
but the recognition of thought as alive;
contemplation is a confluence with this thought;
but a living thought is -- a spirit, our thought is
-- a reflection of the being of life of the Angel;
and recognition of the Angel of thought is
the path of initiation from earth to Jupiter (the
essence of the lunar world is revealed here);
contemplation is -- the experiencing of oneself,
like of an Archangel; here Luna explodes into the
Sun; we -- view the Sun: the Demon of Demons;
pre-Christian culture; in the words of the poet
comes to us.
...Demons
exit their hellish lair...
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