Ascension

A few years back when I was seeing a girl I see very love we had both done MDMA together. The entire experience was one of the most cathartic things I have ever experienced and this is just a piece.

     He's floating. Of all that's now a mystery this is the one thing he's certain of. There is no longer fear within him, he isn't capable of fear anymore, and with this he knows the only way he can break through and see what “it” is will require him to completely let go, relinquishing everything on this crux of faith for this unsubstantiated belief that will guide his consciousness forward. He's reliving memories he'd forgotten he'd ever had in being a young boy, once filled with love and security, being held within the arms of someone who loves him, but whose role for him he can't recall. There's a warmth in the arms that surround him, caring and protectively. They're gifting him the will to unburden his heart, and shed the guard in himself that's been there for as long as he's ever known. The arms are pulling him in tighter, into a chest that he's sinking into with every entirety of his being: his flesh, his soul, and all else. What a familiar impression he's feeling, regressing to a childlike sensation, adorned with the comfort of affection and safety, ignorant of the world he once knew.

      This realm... this place... it's absent from time. It neither exists or ever did. Contemplation is no longer a capable process, and through this ascension his body now vanishes, his ego now discards itself, his identity dissipates for the journey that lie ahead, and at last, what most could only conceive to call a soul is left, without form, and without burden.

      The relief that's flooding him is overwhelming. If within this new state of being, crying was a capable concept he would, and he's so thankful for knowing this, as the last time he he ever did was lost to a place in time that he could never recall. It's been so long since he could move so vulnerably, so truthfully to himself.

      Liberated from the bindings he had failed to recognize existed upon him prior to this night, he feels acceptance for what he is for the first time, and then, forgiveness, for the tragedies he's been bound to. Now in this moment, in this recognition of himself, he finally understands why Maslow decided what reigns above all in his pyramid that he educated upon the world.

      Whole-hearted and unafraid he begins to ascend. The force against his entity is incredible. Though he longer inhabits a physical body, he can't help remembering of riding his first roller-coaster, struggling to hold his head up against the weight of the G-force that fought against him. Now, the more forceful his consciousness tried to propel itself to the top of wherever he is, the stronger the pressure that's fighting against him is becoming. It's beyond crushing. He's being suppressed by a force he can't see, despite not occupying anything physical that can succumb to it. He knows now that he's beyond the threshold of how much he should be able to withstand, but this rise that his sense of self is determined to fulfill won't slow or even falter him for a moment. Rebelliously, whatever the vessel it is that he now occupies in this ethereal state is pushing itself harder upward, willing itself through the enemy against it, exponentially gaining speed and in doing so being contested with equal unmanageable pressure from this antagonist determined to slow his momentum.

      All these things he feels at once: the calm, the acceptance, the uncertainty of his present sense of being, and this pressure against him. He can feel it's desperation ferociously contending with him, not allowing him the opportunity for him to forget it's role opposing him. He can feel himself pushing through it, through this pain without hurt, and through this suffocation without loss of breath. Fear is no longer a concept to him, and even though he can feel this momentous ride isn't meant for his return, he accepts this, and surrenders whatever remaining sense of self that he's ever been, or would be to this moment suspended in time. He allows this great unknown to take possession of everything he is, or was or would become. He doesn't know how he has the knowledge that he must relinquish all he's ever been to move forward, but it doesn't matter, he remains unquestioning and void of trepidation. The all encompassing infallible internal acceptance of his entire being overtakes him, and finally he let's go of it all, and it's at this moment it happens.

      The momentum halted itself, along with any thought or sense of existence that once resided within him. Where he was now was void of all things, and the nothing was all that existed. There was no space, no time, no colour, no surrounding black, no thought and no conception of any kind. It was like life before birth, knowing it's there but unable to process a single sentient thought of any kind, or any sense of perception. He remains here, suspended in a limbo that precedes creation, a place that fosters all that had existed, or would exist from now until the incapable ending of eternity's perpetual journey. Here in the limbo of creation there is no life and death, no matter or anti-matter, nothing of the physical world or immaterial that can offer any sense of conception. It is known, and that is all it can and can't ever be... A state that exists as a contradiction to itself: an inconceivable conception. This is where he no longer exists.

Nothing...

Floating...

Void...

Nothing.

Incognizant and suspended in the realm that all return to and birth from he's resting, as non-existent as the macrocosm he occupies.

Nothing...

Floating...

Void...

Nothing.

Then, something.

      Abruptly and without anticipation, his sense of self exists once more, and before he can recognize his rebirth he's thrust through, shattering a barrier that was never there. Without recall for where he came from or who he was he's broken through the thing that's been pulling him this entire time, and now he's finally here, where he knew he was going but didn't until he arrived. He's here, in the totality that no mere mortal bound by the constraints of living could ever conceive of. He's here, in the truth.

      Born anew he sees colours beyond description as they're being created for the first time before his very sight. Sensations in ever-lasting waves, ineffable in apprehension overtakes him. He feels pleasure like no thing ever has known, agony like nothing anything has ever suffered, and everything else that can ever be felt at simultaneously. He absorbs every sense of perception that would ever be, succumbing to emotion that all things living or not throughout every universe between the beginning and end of time has experienced all at once.

      Everything has finally come together in a way he doesn't understand he hadn't seen before. He can see everything that could exist or ever had is connected in the most intricate and yet obvious ways. He recognizes the amalgamation of the ever expanding grand-cosmos that housed all that would ever be, examining the detail of each individual building block of creation. He sees the conceptions of every god that had been created, and how they've resurrected through their re-conception infinite times over throughout the societies of every sentient being that had ever questioned life's great mystery or death's inevitable arrival.

      He knows now what he has always been a part of, there is no possible contradiction left to conceive. He is no longer what he was. Instead now he has ascended, and become a force of calculated chaos, completely cast off from it's origin, and unencumbered by the weight of unknowing. This being he's now become is unifying one with all that is, becoming more than god, becoming more the past, present, and future, more than all times parallel, synchronized or otherwise. He's now embodying all existence that could materialize physically or not. He is every philosophy, every force of nature, every electron of every atom that ever anchored it's orbit. He is all that can ever be in all that never was contemporaneously.

      The shackles of a world once known are unlocking, and this animus he'd now become is ascending into the all, with it's newfound liberation from the unknowing, it readies itself to unite with everything that it has been shown. It conceives the feeling of fulfilling a prophecy it has been foretold but had never known, and finally it prepares itself for it's deliverance unto the force that is all things.

      Omniscient, ethereal, beyond time and holding the suspension between matter and it's opposing parallel, it surrenders itself to become the perfect being.

...and just before it can, he is pulled back into the waking world.

Author's Note

I doubt this thing is going to make a whole lot of sense out of the context of what I'm writing it for but I wanted some feedback anyway. This is just a part of something bigger I'm trying to write and I will likely take it down soon after I put it up. Feel free to tell me what you think.