Tag Archives: rfcl

Our Dream Was Contained In Numbers

Our Dream Was Contained In Numbers” is a track added by rfcl in the Hermetic Library audio pool.

We multiplied.
Turning singles into pairs.

We made the stars and allowed the light to arrive here.
There are several ways for us to pass through point B without passing through point A.
We made the atmosphere transparent so the light could shine.
Our present conscious experience was a direct result of this constructed physical reality.

Our dream was contained in numbers
in water and folding chairs.
The raw numerical information exists outside the structure,
perhaps indefinitely, as a pilot.

An experience occurs when the numerical information leaves the structure and dissipates.
At this point we no longer measure time, only distance.
This numerical logic is infinitely greater than limited linear logic
Upon death, the information is released from the structure.
It may have existed since the beginning of time.

We multiplied.
Turning singles into pairs.
Then pairs into units that filled up great spaces and swimming pools
represented by holes and extensive gaps.
The resting sites of the cosmic numerical propagation.

The universe has a lot of these dark recesses.
The holes and gaps are a direct result of attacks on us by neighboring universes.
It is completely possible that there are forces out there that we do not know of.

There is an abundance of places or other universes
where our pilot could migrate to after death.
Our pilots are in fact constructed from the very fabric of the universe
time, distance, numbers,
water and folding chairs.

We multiplied.
Turning singles into pairs.
We may have existed since the beginning of time.

Inhabitants Of The Emptiness

Inhabitants Of The Emptiness” is a track added by rfcl in the Hermetic Library audio pool.

For our final trick
we revealed the secret technique
of ingesting the life fluid.
It was a vanishing act.

We gave them this revelation
when we took them with us
into the deep darkness of space
where all memories dissolve.
There we had to once again learn
what we had traveled so far to show.

In the darkness we found
a box, a boat.
In this dark ocean of emptiness
we caught its life fluid
in order to demonstrate that such behavior
was necessary for us to live.
The substance of the son
would now be restored to the father.

The boat was too close to death
to be hospitable.
It was a cold ancient tomb
and actually quite old.
Before it, we were meat for worms,
moribund dregs on our way to oblivion.

We found that the boat would not lose its cold atmosphere over time.
Unless we ate its flesh and drank its blood,
there would be no life in us
we would become a cold tomb onto ourselves.

But through the ritual
we became cosmic crustaceans
inhabitants of the emptiness
we became larger and larger
as we tried to envelop the boat’s mass.

It was then time to show them
the secret method of ritually collecting the life fluid.
Having not quite forgotten it all
we initiated an electrical exchange with them
a storm of sound and lights.

Our experience with the boat told us that
we would at last perfect dematerialization.
If we could make rocks,
we could make life.
And then we ate our own life
and we saw the fluid restored to its source
and life and death became a shining spiral
and we remembered they were us all along
and it was time to return.

Electrical Exchange Substance

Electrical Exchange Substance” is a track added by rfcl in the Hermetic Library audio pool.

One day I showed up in this town of cobblestone streets.
It was mid afternoon and
there were women sitting on the side of the road
and many baskets of multicolored clothes.

One of the women was a Spaniard.
This Spaniard and I became very good friends because of our common language.
I had done my own research on these matters of intentional friendship.
I studied electrons as the active source in any such electrical engagement.
Our front to front position insured
that the flow of the magnetism was counter-clockwise.

It had taken me many years of sweating technicalities.
With her I learned the use of the electrical exchange substance
for the purpose of intentional suffering.
Her beauty was easy to read.
Her brown hands were usually folded neatly on her lap.
Her fingertips were slightly dark.

After the seventh night, something happened.
It was night and at first I did not notice it.
The dark clouds gave it away.
What had occurred between us
was a true mixing of substances of different rates of vibrations.
I was suddenly very cold.

I closed my eyes and found myself nearly frozen
walking through labyrinthine halls,
wandering around in fear and darkness.
One of the most dangerous aspects of the use of the electrical exchange substance
was this sudden experience, an open and unquestionable invitation to death.
It was a dark, cold, windy, dry realm that I found myself in.
These fantasies of death that ran through my mind were a clear message.

One of the seven aspects of this cold blackness
was hidden in the art of electrical decoding of future symbolic language.
My language would tend to freeze,
It would habituate,
it had a ritualistic quality and was highly resistant to change.

I responded with movement without rationality.
I was determined to persevere through the crisis,
but the road had many trials.
I fixated on a clear indication:
movement from active to passive and in a counter-clockwise direction.

I began to sing.
The sacred sacrament of song
was the process by which the electrical and chemical exchange
was transformed into creation.

I woke up once again in this town of balloons and flowers.
There were many women sitting on the side of the road
and many baskets of multicolored clothes
against a gray wall.

Practical Actualization Of Immutable Truth

Practical Actualization Of Immutable Truth” is a track added by rfcl in the Hermetic Library audio pool.

In the course of half a century
of day and night of active work
I came to understand it was overwhelmingly likely
that we live inside
the absurdity of probabilities.

I saw all the many shapes coming towards me.
Clusters, bubbles and voids.
Each one a practical actualization of immutable truths.

They bust through the waterway,
the threshold of the whole
and like most of the mass of the universe
they too reside inside the absurd machine.

In the course of half a century
of day and night of active work
I have found emergent similarities
through thirteen billion years of cosmological evolution.
It is now possible to make this knowledge clear
in a form accessible.

Clouds of thought collide
forming melodies of molecules
rhythms of dust.
It will take another two thousand years
to create something like this universe.

By then we will move forward and backward in time.
And particles will form all around us
and the shapes they make
will fully correspond to our hidden thoughts,
our strange hiccups in time.

I have come to realize
that I created the large-scale universe
at the very beginning of the dissemination
of the shapes I imported into life.

I myself am a time machine.
and to voice it is the concluding chord to my research,
the one most great objective truth.

Shades of Contrast

Shades Of Contrast” is a track added by rfcl in the Hermetic Library audio pool.

It can be difficult to know where to begin.
I dreamt of the waves again last night
Furious and sharp,
coming from the black places,
where ecstasy has been excluded.

I was ready to welcome the heat
on my skin and hair,
Ready for the clash.
I was seeking.

The dreamscape was calling,
an evolving transmission of sublime passion.
It was only the tip of the fountain.

The water in which I swam,
it was originally stored in a moonlike bowl
beneath the roof of the highest temple.
It flowed out, drop by drop,
passing through the five hidden chambers.
The act thus obtained a cosmological dimension,
a tale of beginnings
and shades of gray.

You and I are now travelers
who keep the water up and flowing.
Who are we?
We are a world of contrast
Clashing with gods unknown.

Our bodies are nurtured by their flesh.
Their dreams we drink,
their colors we must fear as we fear death.

The essence of our nature is clashing.
We exist as electrical impulses.
We emerge like waves
from the temple.
We are riders
on the shape of contrast.

I dreamt it all again last night.
I thought I should tell you.

Maybe The Clouds Make The Stars Shine

Maybe The Clouds Make The Stars Shine” is a track added by rfcl in the Hermetic Library audio pool.

The book said:
“The current effort on the part of this author is aimed at
understanding the performance of these large yellow suns.
Dramatic structural changes occur inside of them
through the evolution of large numbers of green stems.
Interest and commitment of time and self are needed
to achieve the unique pleasure that is derived from finding meaning.”

I thought:
The fluttering heart
Was described as the
Call of the chosen.

The book said:
“Every detail is not known of the sequence of discrete changes
that happen when a subjective solar event occurs.
These changes occur instantaneously all over the sun in specific circuits.
The meaning of the subjective event
determines the specifics of the molecular cascades.
The native language of the individual sun
is modulated by nonverbal language elements:
the synchronous oscillations and changes in electrical potentials
that are exchanged between green stems and sun cells.”

I thought:
The book
Was red covered
and contained within it
a single green stem.

The book said:
“Each yellow sun functions as a book.
This book contains at least 13 billion active elements.
It stores trillions of program properties.
Constant and continuous computations are being done giving aim and goal.
The green stem somehow swallows, transforms and creates information and meaning.
This is just part of the life of a thought in the sun,
which continues beyond the reach of green stems
out in the extracellular space.”

I thought:
Maybe the clouds
Make the stars shine
In the golden rays
of a setting sun.

Where No One Goes

Where No One Goes” is a track added by rfcl in the Hermetic Library audio pool.

We are a small group of exiles.
The crescent moon hides
just behind the long row of trees
behind the five magic squares.
This is where we live.
It is the coldest place
right on the edge of the forest,
where no one goes.

We may sometimes take a bite of snow,
wanting the charred taste of flesh,
finding only the bite of cold.
Each of our songs is an invitation
for an uncanny entity
so radical and strange,
so distant, so silent,
tightly wrapped in blankets of meaning.

The entity cannot be controlled or manipulated
towards our own ends.
It lies hidden and unexposed
beneath the words and snow and bitter air.
There are no promises,
no guarantees.

Death stalks us, making us whole,
unafraid of the cliffs on either side.
We open like a book,
the book,
and we begin to sing.

We don’t know how it works,
our uncanny magic.
It uses our strange behavior.
Our breath turns to steam,
then ice,
then we plunge like rocks into the depths
where no one goes.

The entity operates in other universes
that we haven’t yet visited,
our knowledge of them comes
from enormous fairy tales that never end.

Beyond the mountains,
in a small valley directly east of our home
we have been told,
there is a bush that burns.
There is nothing behind it.
Nothing.
This is where we go to die.