Chaos and infinity

Chaos is a system with seemingly infinite possibilities. It is nevertheless subject to the laws of cause and effect, whereby the complexity of the system, which goes "to infinity", makes it extraordinarily difficult to recognize these connections/patterns and thus to "dissolve" the chaos, yes, if necessary, to control it.

The greatest possible, supposed chaos is called - universe. The nature of the complexity, of these chaotic systems (e.g. weather). originates from the to "infinity" going "tininess" of the possible causes for the observed effects (butterfly effect). In this observation and under the assumption that actually smallest causes, can achieve largest effects (which is very probable), lies the "magic of the life".
The idea of the existence of a "Laplace's demon" must therefore be refined and enriched with the realization that the knowledge of the "state of all atoms in the universe" (and of all laws of nature) at a certain point of time, is by far not sufficient to be able to predict every possible future, but the "tininess" of all given, influencing factors, can be smaller than the size of an atom, yes can be smaller than a quantum! Exactly - infinitely small, which makes the number of possible effects/progresses infinitely large and therefore not calculable, at best statistically divisible in "probability worlds".

That means in the end that we will always have to live with a “portion” of fuzziness/uncertainty (ala' Heisenberg) with regard to our prediction abilities and we can operate at the end only with statistical values, which have only limited concrete value for the individual.

The probability that there is a direct relationship of physical world and the spiritual world of consciousness, seems extremely high and therefore the probability that there are absolute values in reality (like "immovable" physical constants) is extremely low. Since in every conceivable situation a smaller or larger value can always be imagined, every imaginable scenario can also occur. We remember, our reality is created by our consciousness, by our imagination! Since we are now part of this, self-created reality and part of the universal consciousness, there can be nothing "imaginable" in the universe, which could not be (infinite possibilities). Therefore, lies in this indefinable infinity of the possibilities, finally also the possibility of the free will (because this is undoubtedly also "imaginable") ...
"God therefore doesn't play dice", but the dice are the aspects of the free will of "all" the "parts of consciousness", which finally make up God, yes, represent him together! Just as the "chaos of reality", is produced as an effect of infinitely many, small causes, which can have infinitely many effects, so the present is this infinitely small "space" between past and future, which nevertheless is EVERYTHING, which ever was and ever will be ...
... and ALL, what is and was and ever will be (the universe), is only a thought and this thought is:

                                                                              I AM! (infinite consciousness / Infinite Consciousness)

 

DREAMFORGER

 

Dreamforger, end of hope, tears-light dreams, flowing nightwards,

wearing stolen horizons,

tearful.

 

Trauma, of past moments,

Shadow load in the mosaic of life.

Moonlight plucks the rain

from heaven.

 

Disembodied, faceless,

you drift through my heart's blood,

unspun, but concrete,

Pain is the evidence of your existence.

 

I've been looking for you for eons,

laid the cards with the luck,

yet you carry me to starlight,

though I never found you.

 

Crystal clear, your look,

yet warm as your knowing hands,

morning soft, your cheeks,

and your body like a dream, maybe worth waiting for

endlessly...

 

"and I'll wait so long"

He that knows nothing, loves nothing.
He who can do nothing, understands nothing.
He who understands nothing, is worth nothing.
But he, who understands, who loves,
notices and sees...
The more insight you have into things,
the greater the love...
Who thinks all fruits ripen at the same time as the strawberries,
he doesn't know anything about grapes.


Paracelsus

Alderpale (or about "modern morality")

Alderpale, crowning your fervor,

it juts into the scree of shattered hope.

There the waxy hand of the hypocrite waves,

over the deathbed of the imagination.

The pale reflection of madness,

touches my earthly ego,

clay jugs full of "ashy" dreams

I'll scatter them over the precipice

of my soul.

My soundless cries,

hanging strangled in the labyrinths

of being.

Keys lie hidden,

behind the dead eyes of the

dark priest.

Wordcorpses, trampled by tongues of iron,

flicker in the cynical glow of

Objection,

without any shine of truth.

Starwide my hands reach out,

everlasting the search,

for the unspoiled, the unadulterated,

but I can't discover anything like that,

just the ice-blue look of hate,

shines clear through the night...

by msw. 

ENDWORLDS

Lightly, words gliding over sandy times, scattered lies,

heavily rests the truth above the dying land,

empty horizons, empty promises and bleeding hope,

sold fate, sandy time slipping from my hand.

Mighty, the trumpet's echo. The world hungers for lifeblood.

Suns crying black light, black light, endworlds...

Singing, the columns of space burst, gods labors, but no one,

nobody breaks the arc of time.

Lost, deaf demons, fading pulse,

magical desert-templars pray their song after tomorrow.

Tomorrow, where it fades away the story of the

"nobodies from nowhere"...

by msw.

MORNING LIGHT

Morning light flows from my veins,

in a pulse of thoughtfulness,

cremated spheres of dullness,

foggy, in the background.

Graceful calm spreads over my

mind, pastel-colored thoughts of

fascination,

erotic in their taste,

imaginative in their form.

Minutes of reconciliation. Moments

of collecting my thoughts,

I dive over from the time and

take me at the

waiting hand.

In the pandemonium of being,

I'm gonna be a little bit of me,

and every hour gives birth to a

moment more, and news,

and a piece of the past.

In the labyrinth of the past,

I find a piece of you, and every

elapsed moment carries the writing of us,
and every new hour meets

a new world.

by msw.

Morgenlicht fließt aus meinen Adern,

im Puls von Nachdenklichkeit,

eingeäscherte Sphären von Dumpfheit,

neblig, im Dahinter.

Anmutige Ruhe breitet sich über mein

Gemüt, pastellfarbene Gedanken von

Faszination,

erotisch in ihrem Geschmack,

phantasievoll in ihrer Gestalt.

Minuten der Versöhnung. Augenblicke

der Sammlung,

ich tauche aus der Zeit zu mir herüber und

nehme mich an der

wartenden Hand.

Im Pandämonium des Seins,

werd' ich ein Stückchen Ich,

und jede Stunde gebiert einen

Augenblick mehr, und Neues,

und ein Stück Vergangenheit.

Im Labyrinth der Vergangenheit,

find ich ein Stückchen Dich, und jeder

verstrichene Augenblick trägt die Schrift

von uns, und jede neue Stunde trifft auf

eine neue Welt.

19.01.1987 by msw.