Since in every nothing there is a craving for something, the Will, which forms in itself through itself, through the craving within the nothing, gives life to the nothing and is its understanding. The craving causes the Will and the Will becomes the cognitive vehicle of the craving. The Will rules over the craving as the craving is what is present in the nothing, and the nothing needs the spirit of the Will to carry it from its nothingness into nature. Nature is the light where the Will seeks its freedom, where reason dwells and waits for the passage from its own hidden realm, to join in the light and become one with the Will.
The Will is the father-spirit, the giver of the something that exists in the non-ground where nothing dwells; where a restless longing is adrift in eternal darkness. It stirs the being of nothingness into a fury, and directs its desires toward the light that is nature. What is nurtured through this nothingness, which has its own life but is without reason, is a craving of the Will to self-rule, to complete itself through itself. Rules of ethics, morality, virtues, etc., are already given since the Will itself wills to be free and to experience freedom and happiness. Its willing is toward the eternal beginnings of its desires, taken from the first cravings, where it was brought to being as eternal-spirit, one with itself formed through itself.
What is against the free Will is the malicious multiplicity, colored by its bastardization of reason, by its desires not to be free for itself but to enslave others to stand in its place and feed them these same others’ freedoms. As they stay busy straightening their wigs and their powdered noses, carefully manipulating their forks and knives, and quotes, chewing on the greasy flesh of their corpulent surrogates, they sadly proclaim their purity while, simultaneously, injecting their blackness into the flesh of the world.
Crowned in its madness and propensity to deceive and betray, its reptilian skin carving its form into the earth, it’s always ready to pounce on the innocent and helpless caught between the corridor separating love from hate, wishing merely to live in peace. As with the eyes of a snake the multiplicity sees only what lies before it, the innocent and helpless, who’ve fallen from the branches and scurry across the dead and dying past, to find a way toward a feeling of peace and happiness, safety and comfort. They are the prey of the snake-formed multiplicity, the easy score and effortless catch, the unknowing, unthinking, relying solely on their beliefs in their own purity of spirit and never noticing the malignant figures who’ve exhausted their freedoms. The snake, the multiplicity-in-one, poison dropping from its fangs, with a craving borne long ago in the un-ground, in a place of nothingness and not of humanity, belonging to an evil darkness, lays hidden in the ground and waits. And waits.
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