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       #Post#: 1577--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stephan
   DIR By: Stephan Caspers
       Date: September 22, 2014, 4:12 pm
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       Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
       When im sitting here, do I know whats true? If not, what the
       hell am ‘I’ doing? So many ‘I’s, I dont know what I am! How can
       i know! Enough dabbling, focus. Me, inside, this body, nobody
       else. Nothing else. There is no other. I cant feel others or
       touch others. I cannot think for 2.
       One conscious, everyone of the many me’s thinks thoughts. Same
       nothingness. How can they know what they are!? They get the same
       answer: no one. What am I looking at? My god, looking at others
       is like walking inside a maze without an exit. So, why am I
       sitting here? Am i really sitting? Or is my butt imagining the
       sensation on to the brains triggering to believe that im
       actually sitting on a chair. So many chairs arent they? It’s all
       me. Outside, whats inside? Nothing. further. This is, strange.
       Im it,. this awareness  what is it!
       Lets give it a shot!
       Awareness is the realisation of what’s true. What’s true can’t
       be sensed by you. For there is no you. Why always bring the
       ancient old ‘you’ into the picture. What is awareness? To know,
       but not be able to control. No control, not through words,
       thoughts, feelings, believes. The ego wants to bottle awareness
       up, like this container (human body). Collecting reasons to hold
       on. To simply exist.
       Is awareness true?
       Your reaching out to someTHING expecting a result! Giving it a
       rest, doing the same ritual bullshít. As if its homework. For
       fck sake get real! Any more realer than this crap, even though I
       know nothing is true. Thoughts, conceptional crap, do I make it
       up? But, the I keeps vanishing. So, there is something left.
       There has to be. Focus on what will be gone after this living of
       mine?  No body, no soul.
       Let’s say it again:
       The ‘I’ is a concept everyone makes up. You may call me Stephan,
       for Christ sake we can never know what ‘I am’ really is. Takes
       alot of meaningless effort that gets your nowhere further. Not
       that there is any place to go, we must settle on to reason. The
       fish has to take the bait sometime.
       Be gentle to others, means be gentle to yourself. How can I
       pretend to be selfish and only hate myself? When in fact I made
       this universe. I am the universe.
       Treat and be a little gentle welcoming others (and things) the
       same way you treat yourself. Discard the shít, contemplate on
       what’s true. I’ll play their game as a rooky actor, for hell's
       sake, even I don’t know what is. Can’t be bothered talking about
       it to other actors, but I'm sure they appreciate my
       entertainment in this non-mysterious world called Nothing.
       Further.
       #Post#: 2122--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stephan
   DIR By: Stephan Caspers
       Date: October 2, 2014, 4:02 pm
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       Garbage day
       Goodmorning neighbour! Just cleaning the thrash.
       I read your definition about stupid people and to be honest Jed,
       my mind makes up the believe i've actually been stupid. Why?
       I’ll examine this thought right now.
       One idea might help for a period, once overused it’s time to
       change gears.
       These several weeks I mainly contemplated to what is. Managed my
       own personal meaningless crap. Whatever arouses I welcomed.To
       let go by giving it attention, squeeze like an orange, drink
       it’s juice to later, pee it all out. Liberating sensation I must
       say.
       The mind gets a crapload of attention jezus! It’s official
       garbage day! Allowing life sucking into me. I’ve been sick few
       weeks ago. Felt amazing same week. No matter what feeling or
       emotion I imagine to experience, it’s as if you’re blowing
       bubbles in the air to watch it pop later on in the same sky.
       Back to the idea of being stupid. I know when crap gets too much
       I let the garbage out through SA.
       Right now after 1 or maybe 2 weeks of contemplating it’s time
       for my SA’s.
       The ego likes to attach. I know when im going for something it’s
       absolutely meaningless. In a fun way that’s the only motivation
       I need. Why all this seeking when I know damn well everything is
       meaningless?
       Lights, camera, ACTION! Further.
       #Post#: 2142--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stephan
   DIR By: Stephan Caspers
       Date: October 3, 2014, 2:52 am
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       The red lamborghini
       What we feel is not it. what we experience is not that either.
       How many times must one talk to attain it? The ideas are a lie
       only viewed in a wicked universe. Car salesman are one of the
       people that know how the mind works. They all have been taught
       to “sell” their merchandise making one thing more impressive
       than the other. They won't stop until the costumer "buys in".
       The mind wants to “buy” in. Once sold out it’s beginning to
       believe that perfect car is officially mine for the taken. I
       payed money, it’s written on a contract, the sly salesman is
       satisfied and I am "happy". Doesn’t that make it totally real I
       just purchased a car? Good gimmick!
       Further.
       #Post#: 2144--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stephan
   DIR By: Jed McKenna
       Date: October 3, 2014, 3:07 am
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       There is a guy who drives down my street in a new car every
       couple of weeks and you reminded me. First a Lambo. The it was a
       very classy dark brown two door Bentley. Yesterday a four door
       Maserati. I just looked at a guy next to me and he say
       'Russian'. It think he meant he was rushin to buy his next car
       but his English wasn't that good. Not a bad dream. (he was not
       alone).
       So, what's next for you in your dream.
       Love ya, Jed.
       #Post#: 2270--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stephan
   DIR By: Stephan Caspers
       Date: October 5, 2014, 2:00 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The Cheshire Cat
       So many distractions. Sitting on this chair, thinking…thinking…
       thinking….. waiting for what? Hello Cheshire cat, am I glad to
       see you. "You see me?", He asked. "Im not really there where
       your looking at. Close those pretty brown eyes. Can you still
       say I am there? Tell me, which way you wanna go further with?" I
       dont know, nothing is all I know. Im existing, not living. "Oh
       do you? Or do I? Hmm…"
       What is memory? I asked Cheshire. "Excuse me? You’re asking an
       imaginary projection coming from YOU to tell YOU a concept
       theory about memory? You know what I tell wouldn't be true,
       perhaps it does contain the element of truth, not quiet a
       catchable one." Figure it out your own, for I am useless to you.
       Goodluck!" The cat vanished as he left me with those words.
       Further.
       The memory game PART 1: Miracles
       There is no you that I know. How do I know? Cause there is no
       other, only what is. When I say "you" don't exist, "you" say the
       same thing towards me. Like a mirror reflection. So go further,
       for what purpose? What will I dream next ? I cannot sit here
       waiting for a “miracle” to happen which wont come and isn't
       true.
       HOLD IT!
       Let's examine miracles.
       A miracle is an unexplained occurance also referred to as luck
       or coincidence where logic fails to exist.  With all the
       knowledge of the world, one who always put their faith on logic
       and reason now robs a bank with an empty gun. Or plays football
       without a ball.
       Try this on for size!
       Whatever left unexplained gets dropped in the believe category.
       God, jezus, death, buddha, me, that and other imaginable crap
       ends up as believe.
       I was wondering the idea behind memory. Cause without a you, who
       knows all these talking, writings, walking and what not? We
       interact with the universe through attachment. Memory is why you
       still remember, recall or better said re"identify" your name.
       Memory gets confused giving it the shape of a persona. We
       believe what we “thought”. We take it all for granted. Memories
       are concepts that gets you the idea you’re alive. Am I really
       alive…? Or is life the exploration of events such as; birth,
       childhood or adulthood periods etc.
       Further.
       The memory game PART 2: Circle of life
       Attachtment vs. reality
       When I say A, B… what would you say next? C ofcourse not a trick
       question. Or is it? This I can say is a very important idea
       worth dismantling. We live life being taught to mannerism
       logical bullshít. At young age at kindergarden they teach you
       the art of reading. The art of writing. The art of speaking. The
       art of copying. This is a chain reference to memory whereas the
       idea is implanted in your brains making such things so obvious.
       An artificial way of living. How can the robot operate without
       it’s data? How can a human being live without it’s data?
       At the moment as I write this all down I “remember” how to
       write. I remember how to talk. Another virus given to me at
       birth would be “breathing” and “thinking”. Later on out of
       survival needs one starts to drink and eat. Automatically learns
       to poop and pee and so on goes the circle of life.
       Telling myself I am alive, in this place, this universe, is yet
       another concept thought. We mistake life for the attachment that
       we hold dear to every collectable memory stored inside us.
       Therefore comes forth the idea of identifications.
       NOT OVER YET!
       On a roll today! I have no regrets cutting my life into pieces.
       This is what truly has to be done in order to get an
       understanding of what’s true. Erase the memory, that indicates
       erasing the confusion we call living (loved ones are like
       superglue!).
       I recognise an identity by looking at other actors reactions
       towards this persona. What will be left when I am gone? No one
       will miss me. No one will love me. We all cling on to memories,
       affraid to let go. Death is the physical eraser of our presence
       beings. When I die, what will my future family write down on my
       tombstone:
       He was a good guy, a great friend, a respectable lover. We will
       miss you Stephan. (*sob sob*) POOF GONE!
       Further!
       #Post#: 2327--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stephan
   DIR By: Jed McKenna
       Date: October 6, 2014, 9:35 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Dear S:
       If you say 'a' 'b' I would automatically say 'normal' as in
       'abnormal'. That's the most logical thing to follow those two
       letters.
       I'm hoping my tombstone will read 'Thank God he's gone', or
       maybe 'Dear God, now he's your problem.
       I'm not joking one bit.
       Love ya, Jed.
       #Post#: 2627--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stephan
   DIR By: Stephan Caspers
       Date: October 10, 2014, 3:50 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Cliffhanger
       The safety to cling on to what is, bounching back and forth. I
       fall off a cliff. Barely grabbed a fragile root coming from a
       big oak tree sticking out. Reaching out to what feels like love,
       protection, comfort; the imaginary hand of god a.k.a.
       attachment. Every normal person would help me back up. Then
       there are ofcourse those trusty asshöles who waited an eternity
       for this moment.
       Nevertheless the "tempation" to get up, closing my eyes to
       sleep. I've held on that long. The weight of this crap I'm taken
       gets heavier. THIS IS BORING! Time to release that hand. A few
       seconds after the release I woke up. Oh boy, just another dream
       down the sewer.
       Further.
       #Post#: 2631--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stephan
   DIR By: Stephan Caspers
       Date: October 10, 2014, 4:15 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Gladiatorial games
       What's with all this entertainment, this living? I can't sleep.
       Nor know anything about time. Or the difference between day or
       nighttime. Preparations have been made for my next fight. Was
       promised freedom upon my 1000x victory. After 999 fights it's
       the final match. Lost an eye, got a few scars on my chest. A
       slave of this system called living. Before I enter the stage a
       flashback from my first fight came to my awareness.
       Day 1
       I remember it clear as the morning sun. Fell right into a
       sinkhole of depression. the whole time I lived like everyone
       else, except that I knew things were off in this world. This
       living, Things at teenage life which felt as a "forced" society
       behavior; get drunk every weekend, going out, be with other
       guys, dunno what the F they call fun. I wasn't getting any close
       friends, nor people I could eventually call friends to begin
       with. A loner at heart, surrounded by sheep. The pull of
       depression started when I failed almost any test at uni. Just
       when I got a nice bond with others, I am left out due to this
       stuff to catch up. This brief bonding with others became second
       nature.
       I was losing my career, my dreamjob, everything fell apart like
       the drop of snowflakes. All the struggle to get up on two feet.
       I managed to get a grib, succeeded my previous failings. This
       year, just by one unimportant test, I screwed up. Took me a
       total of 3 years on this uni. just to find out it was all
       for...nothing. It has been a few months since I got into T/R
       business. The moment I saw it was finally game over, something
       happened: I didn't give a Fck. Even after a 3yr struggle, what
       did I really lose? lots of time big deal. I lost my girlfriend
       same week, parents got frustrated at me, that which once
       described this Stephan persona got obliterated. To me I felt
       like I didn't lose anything at all!
       Done?
       The gates open, my moment of glory awaits on this battlefield of
       slaughter. No suprise once again I became victorious. A few
       minutes I enjoyed this last victory. The best feeling out of all
       the struggles. I close my eyes, head tilted at the sky. The wind
       gives me a gentle warm touch over my skin. Till it felt cold...
       I hear a voice shouting from a distance: RELEASE THE LIONS!
       My eyes open as I engage for yet another fight. WTF it ain't
       done! Then I started to realise, there is no such thing as free
       will. No control. All hopes, all dreams are made up. You are the
       battlefield. You create this game of gimmicks.
       Execution
       After killing the lion horde I knew what had to be done next.
       The last fight wasn't in this arena, no. The final fight would
       be the end of a "you". The execution of a no self. Now knowing
       all previous things in my life so far were meaningless. All what
       will come would still be meaningless. I pointed my sword on my
       chest and without hesitation I pierced straight through my
       heart.
       Further
       The above was my journey mixed in with a made up story as added
       entertainment value. I can't precisely recall when I noticed
       Done was never Done. I could say after 1, perhaps almost 2
       months, I've been dreameating. Dream after dream pass by. It's
       through storytelling I flush out the shít in my personal toilet
       with a mixture of contemplating to what is.
       What's next? Breakfast! (a dream sandwich with bacon!)
       Further!
       #Post#: 2662--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stephan
   DIR By: Stephan Caspers
       Date: October 10, 2014, 3:08 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Next level voodoo magic
       Recently I stumbled upon the idea that attachment is linked with
       any given emotion or feeling. The interaction in this universe
       only takes place within these sensations. As I write on this
       forum, there is a “wanting” connected to this desire.
       Now imagine you sleep in a hospital bed. You wake up from a long
       lasting coma. Everything looks blank in the eyes. The sexual
       harrashment nurse enters to check on your condition and noticed
       your awake. Before you even start to ask where the F you are,
       the nurse hands over your ID card. You notice a photo that looks
       like you. Your character display is written on it. After a
       couple of minutes the family arrives. Supposingly mom and dad
       brought chocolate cause apparently that’s what “you” liked. So
       now your attached through your ID card and your parents.
       Same applies to newborns. You get raised by sleepwalkers to
       become just another one of those. This is inevitable, I forgive
       them for who the heck even knows why parents must act like
       parents. My mom and dad certainly had a different life before my
       older bro got born. I as the second and last child shaped their
       lifes as if it’s a sacrifice of their own living. They distract
       themself with us (bro and me) and like you said Jed, they were
       bored and still are. That’s not what they ever told me. Nor any
       parents ever let you know you’re a piece of toy served only for
       the pleasure of self fulfillment. So much for love… (Dramatic
       cry ;))
       5 seconds sadness over love. Made up crap anyways. I do have
       childhood flashlights whenever I walk pass the hallway and look
       at our photos taken on school. If only they knew me as I am now.
       A wolf raised by sheep.
       Take off your ring or necklace, also give me one hairpiece.
       Excellent. Now, this is a voodoo doll. I’ll give this little guy
       your soul. There! Perfect! The ring is around  it’s neck
       together with that hairpiece of yours. Let me get a needle,
       there it is! but first, do you feel this little squeeze? Feels
       weird right. Now what if I poke it with this? It hurts doesn’t
       it?
       Wow crazy shít! Felt so real! Fancy attachment. Let’s put it to
       the next level: Your body.
       Same idea as the voodoo, do you really think after seeing this
       puppetshow that it’s YOU who feels the pain? Ofcourse there is
       no you, but the attachment is there. We connect ourself with the
       rhythm of life itself. The emotions that run high on any
       attachable thing. Your watching a movie and feel an attachment
       for the main actor. YOU're that imposter!
       A few weeks ago I felt fcked up by someone elses traumatic
       experienced. It  felt like I was living that persons life. Even
       had a nightmare as if I was that person. Took me alot of time to
       let go. Last thing I shouted was: Where am I!? Leave this dream!
       Where am I? Who poked this body? No one. There is no one who
       ever suffers. All made up.
       Further.
       #Post#: 2720--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Stephan
   DIR By: Jed McKenna
       Date: October 12, 2014, 12:11 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Yup, further.
       Love ya, Jed.
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