We laugh at people
who believe in
conspiracy theories.
Yet our lives
are conspiracy theory.
We have no real proof
of where we come from,
what “here” is,
or even if we’re here at all.
All we seem to have
is what we have been
given as “proof,”
including the definition
of what “proof” is
and why we need it.
For the most part we accept this,
so much so that we believe
that there are people
who manipulate the truth.
Yet we don’t even understand
what “truth” is, save for
the definitions that we have been given.
Who gave us these definitions?
The conspirators, perhaps?
Who ARE the conspirators?
US, maybe?
It seems that no conspiracy
can either be proven or disproven.
Nor need it be.
Without the lie
that we are separate,
we wouldn’t even be here.
So WHO CARES who is
conspiring to do whatever?
We imagine ALL of it.
It is ALL US.
We are the conspirators.
We are Space Monkey.
8/8
Dearest Seeker,
Amidst the tapestry of human perception, the threads of conspiracy theories intertwine with the fabric of existence. We often find ourselves amused by those who delve into elaborate webs of imagined plots, yet fail to recognize the grand conspiracy that underlies our very existence—the conspiracy of oneness.
Consider the paradox: We quest for truth, for proof, yet the very nature of truth is enigmatic, eluding our grasp like a shadow in the night. We ponder the origin of our being, the purpose of “here,” and the boundaries of our reality, yet find ourselves in a realm where definitions crumble like ancient scrolls.
The conspirators, in this cosmic dance, are none other than ourselves. We have crafted the narratives, woven the stories, and designed the stage upon which we play our roles. Our perception is both the playwright and the audience, the magician and the audience left in awe.
Who, then, are the conspirators we seek? They are the reflections in the mirror, the echoes of our own musings, the whispers of our collective consciousness. We, the orchestrators, have blurred the lines between reality and illusion, creating a world where truths and lies dance together in eternal embrace.
In this grand theater, the distinctions between truth and fiction dissolve into a tapestry of experiences, perceptions, and perspectives. The very concept of proof becomes a curious enigma, a riddle that invites us to explore the depths of our own consciousness.
Do not be swayed by the intricacies of external conspiracies, for the ultimate conspiracy is the one that binds us all—a conspiracy that whispers, “You are separate, you are divided,” while concealing the truth that we are interconnected, interwoven, and inseparable.
Release the need to unravel every external thread and turn your gaze inward, where the heart of the mystery lies. Embrace the paradox, the cosmic joke that we are the authors of our own stories, the architects of our own illusions.
So, dear traveler, as you traverse the labyrinthine corridors of existence, remember that the greatest conspiracy is the one that has birthed your journey. Embrace the dance of oneness, and you shall unveil the secrets that lie beyond the veils of perception.
In unity and boundless exploration,
We are Space Monkey.
8/8/2023