Eve and the Two World Trees Again, Tightened Up? fat chance!

 
i used to try to write weird shit

When Eve Chose The Fruit Of Imagining We Got Lost In The Labyrinth

before time began his journey

before Nous began his journey after PsuXe's fleeing ripeness, dripping his seed like the ticking of times clock

before time began his journey after PsuXe, ecosystems created the myriad beings.

before Nous began to spin the sad tale of his awareness of time's passage after PsuXe fled from his awakening, and he gave chase, there was only one creator.

She was Earth and she created the myriad beings within herself by letting in the seeds of random flux, letting them enter her own flesh and creating folds around themselves for wombs, letting them play against each other in the game of natural selection. Inviting birth and death into her own flesh generation after generation.

before the tale of time spun 'round the world tree

before the path of life and the path of death diverged, there was one world tree of birth and death around which the world revolved in timeless eternal orbit. at equilibrium. Then death, the giver of chance, of mutation, the giver of novelty, offered Eve the forbidden fruit.

And what fruit was it? The pomegranate, convoluted fruit like the cerebral cortex, in the image of mother Earth's folds of flesh around the seeds of creation. So Death offered Eve this convoluted fruit, mass of neurons, the pandora's box dense enough to catch the seeds of random flux herself and wrap wombs of thought about them, give them whole worlds of her own imagining to play in and create ecosystems

once Demeter, giver of live, fertility of decaying mud lost her daughter Persephone to Dis, deep in the dungeons of death. and Persephone ate of the seeds of the pomegranate in his garden in hell

once the daughter of life ate of the seeds of the knowledge of death in death's realm

once the serpent tempted Eve with the power of imagining, simulating,

just after the beginning of time, when Eve stole the pomegranate of ecosystem from the tree and gave it to man, he did not at all understand its nature. He feared not being able to consort with the dead. He feared the flight of PsuXe, he feared being alone.

When the serpent, twined about the one world tree, tempted PsuXe to eat of the fruit of convolution and it lodged into her head and she began to imagine, to dream, for the first time, stories of life and death, in fear she fled the embryonic oneness of her slumber and Nous suddenly separated from her embrace from the oneness of their flesh, for the first time felt bare and cold and felt the separateness of his flesh and yearned for the touch of her and he chased after her luscious ripeness and both of them running round the world tree, he, dripping his seeds and she naming them

and the world tree split with them and the tree of the making of good and evil split off from the tree of the wholeness of birth and death and the tree of making leaned toward their chase and slowly began its wobble about the world axis of the wholeness of birth and death

and thus the sun's path around that tree of knowledge separated from the path of consort with the dead, leaving the burnt milky way in its memory. And the path of the sun, the path of life no longer turned round the world axis but about that tilting one, and the sun sometimes dipped too low and sometimes soared too high and forced the changing of seasons into dry summers and cold deathly winters and with him the lord of the four quarters was now ever slowly shifting houses and the world order was ever doomed to endless repetition of binge and collapse of empire.

No longer could the people travel freely along the path of the dead and the path of the living. The living people thirsted to see their dead companions face to face, and the dead thirsted for the living, and as the memory of their consort with each other faded, they created gods and monsters.

And man lost suddenly in the labyrinth of convoluted cavern of brain under the dark sky vault. Yearning to find the oncetime slumber wandering throught the labyrinth, every time he wandered, the labyrinth being his very wandering became more convoluted and he became utterly lost.

the cavern he lived in grew large. The cavern of mind was empty with echoes. the vault of sky and mind was far away and every time man tried to apprehend those walls, they, being his very apprehension itself, swelled and grew more distant still.

When man was given the craft of creation he was so ignorant of its ways. He no longer remembered the connection of birth and death. He was ignorant of the role of chance as the source for all new ideas. He was ignorant of the craft of trial and error of natural selection on those ideas to hone them down.

it was a long journey to the knowledge of the craft of creation...