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There are many adventures we make in life,

Some of them fantastic, and others quite simple.

My favorite are the simple ones,

For in the simple times, the quiet spaces between truth and falsehood,

Beginning and End.

Therin lies the hope of the Eternal Dreamer.



Here I will tell of one of my simple Adventures.

Regardless of anyone reading this,

It will be left as a testament unto the journey of myself and some of my dear companions.



When I was young, and my spirit was restless,

I left my home in search of Truth.

I longed for affirmation that the world could be good, could be loving.

I have found since that time, that there is love in the world,

Albeit, It comes and goes, sometimes quickly, and sometimes it lasts for what seems like an eternity.

But in the end, everything passes away.

Even Gods fall prey to stagnation, and must

incarnate again to be truely alive.

So onward, I journed from my dwelling place to a Buddhist Monastary in Kentucky.

It was of grande Structure,

And from the wynding ways, i could Here the soft

yet stong mantram of many deep voices...

The sound of there chanting, brought a feeling of amazement and wonder, and a deep longing to experience what peace they must be feeling.

i I went to the the great Entrance, and knocked quietly...

I waited, and no one came.

I knocked again.

And again.

Finnaly, a young monk, clad in an orange robe came forth, looking at me with an almost

distrusful eye.

he was silent, just stareing.



So I spoke up, saying;

"I wish to enter in a spirit of truth, and take the Boddhissatva Vows."



To Be Continued

What is truth? But the scalding of sages, whose words are all but lost unto time? Are we to drink of the cup of truth without choice? NO! for we must drink by our own choice, lest the full Truth not be realized! So, through the realization of this Idea of Truth by Choice, we fall not prey unto the delinquent mindset of our forefathers. Takeing our time to realize the Truth, (Which may or may not exist, wjich in the end is of little matter, for it is in the procedure we find growth. Not in the "Truth" we are reportedly said to find at the end.) We therby are made conduits of evolution, both biologicaly and spiritualy!



Digitus Paternae Dexterae.



Within the Dreamscape of a shattered reality, we arise into the starry skies, Aadam Kadamon; first man. Rightful heir of Gan'Eden, reaches out in his akashic form to touch the concentrated point of the Ain Sof Aur, called by some the Divine Monad. Though he longs to touch the hand of Ain Sof, he realizes that to do so would bring his utter anihilation. For to be in direct contact with The Prima Materia, without his spirit resideing in a proper vessel, would create such an intense enrgetic reaction that both he and Ain Sof would diminish into nil by the force of that surge. So it sufficethAadam Kadamon to but extend, and alow there expanded auras to touch, the light static is alone enough to bring life unto his heart. Now, Ain Sof Aur, contracting Itself unto Ha'shem, the Tetragrammaton, extracts the first and las letters of Its Name, then by a process simple, yet obscure, tripples th Heh, and disects the sixth with Its lovely hand. Then, with breath upon each finger, grasps the heart of the akashic Aadam... Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..... Aadam is no more only Macrcosm, but is born again as the first expression of divine will. The Microcosm.