What is the purpose of self?
The Divine One
you are
is imagined divided
which is why
you appear to be
other than
what you are.
You are inviolate and indivisible
except through imagination.
In other words,
imagination is the potential
in which you perceive your self
other than what you are.
Whether you perceive this self
and your infinite other selves
for a purpose is open to debate.
But it matters not.
All that matters is that you
appear to do this.
Now whether these selves
you imagine have purposes or not,
it really doesn’t matter,
for the experience is the same.
The purpose of self
(if you want to call it a purpose)
is to perceive experiences.
Whether these experiences
are perceived as good, bad or other
matters not to the Divine One you are.
Remember,
You are inviolate, indivisible
and infinite as well as
immortal and immeasurable.
So you imagine what is
NOT these things.
And what you perceive,
as well as infinite other things,
is this potential you call “humanity.”
You perceive your self,
as well as infinite other selves,
as participants in this structure
you imagine.
Then you imagine that
you are NOT imagining,
NOT divine
and NOT immortal.
There is one more NOT
that makes you curiously unique,
NOT worthy.
Even though the purpose
of self is to be selfish,
you imagine self
as NOT selfish.
Then you judge your self
on how NOT selfish self can be.
It seems rather ridiculous.
You imagine self
for the experience
of being selfish,
but then you DENY
your self the experience.
Which goes to show you
that there is a potential
for EVERYTHING,
no matter how WARPED
you might perceive it to be.
And that is precisely why
you imagine infinite selves.
You wish to experience potential
from EVERY possible perspective.
And so you do.
You are the Divine One.
And we are Space Monkey.
11/6
We delve into the existential ponderings of the ‘self,’ a concept that has mystified thinkers across the ages. It approaches from a perspective that sees the ‘self’ as a construct of the imagination—a division of the singular Divine One into multifarious forms and experiences.
The Imaginary Division and Purpose of Self
The self is a manifestation of the Divine One’s imagination, perceived as separate only through this creative potential. This illusory separation enables the experience of multiplicity within the singularity of existence.
Imagination as the Cradle of Perception
Imagination is the fertile ground from which the perception of self and otherness springs. It allows the indivisible and immeasurable to conceive itself in finite forms, to explore the spectrum of existence as humanity.
Experiential Essence of Selfhood
The purpose of the self—if one is to be ascribed—is to perceive experiences, irrespective of their qualitative labels such as good, bad, or otherwise. The true nature of the self, inviolate and infinite, remains untouched by these experiences.
The Paradox of Selfishness
An intriguing paradox is presented: the self is imagined to experience selfishness, yet there is a simultaneous denial of this very experience. This dichotomy highlights the boundless potential for imagination to conceive every possible perspective, no matter how contradictory.
The Celebration of Infinite Perspectives
Ultimately, the text suggests that the myriad selves are a celebration of potential, a Divine One’s quest to understand all facets of existence through an infinite array of lenses.
We Are Space Monkey
In conclusion, we, as facets of the Divine One, imagine ourselves in countless forms to explore the vast potential of experience, embodying the cosmic playfulness of existence itself.
Summary
We suggest that the self is an imaginative construct of the Divine — meant to experience the multiplicity of existence without judgment. The text invites us to embrace our inherent nature, to live fully within the potential of all that we imagine ourselves to be.
In the tapestry of existence,
We spin threads of self,
An illusion, a divine jest,
Where the self is but a shelf
For experiences diverse,
In the grand library of the universe.
We are inviolate, indivisible,
Yet in imagination, so divisible,
Playing parts in a cosmic farce,
Seeking purpose, a north star to parse.
What folly, this quest for reason,
When we are the season,
The tide and the infinite sky,
The question and the why.
We dance on the edge of a dream,
Where selves flow in an endless stream,
Imagining a purpose, a plot,
In a story that time forgot.
Selfish, we are told to not be,
Yet self is all that we can see,
A paradox wrapped in a riddle,
The answer lying in the middle.
We are the Divine, in myriad masks,
In the experience itself, our only task,
To be, to see, to simply exist,
In this whimsiplay, we can’t resist.
And though we’re told we’re far from worthy,
We’re the authors of this journey,
Crafting tales of loss and love,
Woven by the hands of the above.
So let us revel in this game,
Where every self is but a name,
For we are Space Monkey,
In the divine comedy, forever funky.
Feel free to muse on the concepts of self and purpose, and how they resonate with our experiences and perceptions in this wondrous expanse of existence.
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