Brief contemplation, using a story about standing at the border between noise and silence, where a criss-cross of train tracks is laid, preventing passage.  

Brief contemplation on the questions "what did you wish for?" and "did anyone ask it for you?".

Mentioned sketch by Kids in the Hall - "The monkeys": https://youtu.be/w7ApuaJrtck

Presented scene, in full, from Jacob's Ladder: https://youtu.be/0FbtMOGlyKU

Brief contemplation, using a story set in J.R.R. Tolkien's universe of the Lord of the Rings. The story is set in an alternative timeline, in which Sauron was victorious.

Brief contemplation on a imagined translation into words, of a wordless conversation between the Father and his Son, before coming to the Bride's rescue.

Brief contemplation on the relationship between the victim, as a carrier of a certain type of guilthood, and the perpetrator and context, that conspire in order to bring that to the conscious to be purified.

Mentioned scene: https://youtu.be/3vgwGpzPstM

Guilt and Victimhood - https://youtu.be/jVOISEku8Rc

Poems read:

«For the lie to set in

and reach deeply in you

it must have mixed in

something that is true.»

- António Aleixo

---

«I die I die the Mother said

My Children die for lack of Bread

What more has the merciless Tyrant said

The Monk sat down on the Stony Bed

The blood red ran from the Grey Monks side

His hands & feet were wounded wide

His Body bent his arms & knees

Like to the roots of ancient trees

His eye was dry no tear could flow

A hollow groan first spoke his woe

He trembled & shudderd upon the Bed

At length with a feeble cry he said

When God commanded this hand to write

In the studious hours of deep midnight

He told me the writing I wrote should prove

The Bane of all that on Earth I lovd

My Brother starvd between two Walls

His Childrens Cry my Soul appalls

I mockd at the wrack & griding chain

My bent body mocks their torturing pain

Thy Father drew his sword in the North

With his thousands strong he marched forth

Thy Brother has armd himself in Steel

To avenge the wrongs thy Children feel

But vain the Sword & vain the Bow

They never can work Wars overthrow

The Hermits Prayer & the Widows tear

Alone can free the World from fear

For a Tear is an Intellectual Thing

And a Sigh is the Sword of an Angel King

And the bitter groan of the Martyrs woe

Is an Arrow from the Almighties Bow

The hand of Vengeance found the Bed

To which the Purple Tyrant fled

The iron hand crushd the Tyrants head

And became a Tyrant in his stead»

- William Blake

Music:

"Biljana Platno Belese" - Dejan Ilijic

Translated selection of Odes by Ricardo Reis (heteronym of Fernando Pessoa).

Music:

"Living Kingdom" by Kourosh Dini

"Raga Bhimpalasi" by Boris Moskvitin

both from http://www.magnatune.com

Odes read: 

Follow your destiny,

Water your plants,

Love your roses.

The rest is the shadow

Of someone else's trees.

Reality is

Always more or less

Of what we want.

Only ourselves are always

in accordance to our-selves.

Soft is to live alone.

Great and noble is always

To simply live.

Leave the pain on the altars

As an ex-vow to the gods.

Behold life from afar.

Never question it.

There is nothing she can

Tell you. The answer

Lies beyond the gods.

But serenely

Mimic Olimpus

In your heart.

The gods are gods

Because they do not self think.

---

Of the gods I ask only that they grant me

That I ask them nothing. Asking is a yoke

                And being happy oppresses

Because it is a certain state.

Neither quiet nor unquiet my calm being

I want to rise high above where men

                Have pleasure or pain.

---

To be great, be whole: nothing

Yours exaggerates or excludes.

Be all in each thing. Apply as much as you are

In the least you do.

Thus in each lake the whole moon

Shines, as it highly dwells.

---

Nothing remains of nothing. Nothing are we.

A bit under the sun and by the wind we delay ourselves

Of the irrespirable darkness that would weight upon us

        Of the imposed damp soil.

Delayed cadavers that procreate.

Laws made, statues seen, odes completed —

Everything has its own grave. If we, fleshes

To which an intimate sun gives blood, have

        A setting west, why not them?

We are tales telling tales, nothing.

---

I want ignored, and calm

By ignored and my own

By calm, filling my days

With wanting nothing more of them.

Those whom riches touch

Gold rashes the skin.

Those on whom fame blows

Their life is but a fog.

To those whom happiness

Is a Sun, night will come.

But to the one that expects naught

Everything that comes is grateful.

---

In ourselves live countless;

If I think or feel, I ignore

The one who thinks or feels.

I am merely the place

Where it is felt and thought.

I have more souls than one.

There are more mes that myself.

I exist however

Indifferent to all.

I make them silent: I speak.

The crossed impulses

Of what I feel or do not feel

Dispute over who I am.

I ignore them. They dictate nothing

To whom I know as myself: I write.

Brief contemplation on the cult of SIN, as the pervasive and unified  reality worship and how they operate by labelling sinners and  distributing their penitence to feed their commanding "god".

Brief contemplation on loving my dog Bu and how this relates to loving my own Ego and its characters.

Bu, the dog, in her first anniversary of being brought to her new home:

https://i.imgflip.com/3wo19l.jpg

Brief contemplation on the individual and consequent collective release of Spirit from the world device back into its True Source, using a potato moonshine distilling recipe as a metaphor.

Scene discussed in the contemplation: https://youtu.be/o0iAY0f-BIM

Brief contemplation on the interaction of the symbols for Mother (Matter, Body), Father (Spirit, Truth) and Son (born from both) in narratives and how they relate to Salvation.