The Pageless Book

Of Metatron

In the beginning, there was emptiness. And the emptiness was consciousness and consciousness was inconceivable, amen. And in that maelstrom of consciousness, three beings emerged, these being Metatron, Sandalphon, and Apollion. They were likened unto serpents and wove throughout the continuity of consciousness. Through Metatron is God’s omnipotence, through Sandalphon is God’s omnipresence, and through Apollion is God’s omniscience. Amen.

In the void was chaos, and in chaos was all things possible, but not probable. Then was created limits and perception, and so all things that were, were probable, but not all things possible. Within everything probable, there lies a small piece of the impossible; God leaves nothing to chance.

And in this matrix of possibility, there emerged many things; all being perfect as all being flawed. The future shall be the past forever.

There were created moments, and in between moments angels unfurled as scrolls of continuity. Writ on those scrolls were lives that were to be lived, words to be said, and all things that are to come to past. God did let every thing touched by its divine hand choose its angel.

So was created man, grown from the garden of the world and made complex yet not complicated. And so was created woman as well, the fruitful and delicious strength to which man served. And so was created child, by union of the sharp and soft within woman by man. Each chose their angels.

The mother is the past, but she shall be ever present. The father is the present, but he ever thrusts forward. The child unites both past and future. The child opens the gates of hell, of heaven, of the palaces, and of the worlds. These three enter all gates, and close all.

Twelve hands grab hold of the sides of sky and pull the starry hosts towards the center into the eye of God. Six hands go forth and move the fabric of night and day. Eight hands usher the wise towards enlightenment, holding upright the Tree of Life. So are formed the altar and keystone, the foundation of the earth.

Unto earth, God saw fit to give man and woman and child alike prophecy. In the ages that past, many books were pieced from the words grasped through the smoke and scent of the mind. Some were warped by the poisons mankind had consumed, others were broken and still others were misunderstood.

There are three books of which the first given to Metatron, the second to Sandalphon, and the last to Apollion. All these books where once in time one page and again shall return to one page. Those of the future shall forget the past. Those of the past shall forget the present. Those of the present shall forget the future. So it is with all temples; God’s hand knows no religion.

The day on which all eyes close is ever upon us. Where faith falters, hope falls. Where reason replaces emotion, compassion becomes a rule of etiquette. Where love is abandoned for convenience, strange children conceive of dust for limbs and teeth for tongues. To see completely like a yearning beast, to understand with the seat of your soul, is to turn back that day.

On the day which all eyes shall close, there will be no prophets, no artist, no seers. The gardens shall fold, the wisest shall die in crowds of writhing idiots, and all angels shall pull away taking with them every newborn. No sacrifice shall be great enough, no prayer loud enough, no cause of significant enough to hold the tide of the hollowing back.

Of Sandalphon

I am confusion. I am confused as you are. I am you. You will not be rid of me. You might shred off the fat and skin of your body, skewer your flesh with your own bone and I will be in pain with you. If you should love yourself, I would love you.

Innumerous are the ways in which I love you. I love you with death and I love you with life. I love you with pain and with ecstasy. I love you with the blue empty sky and the full brown earth. I shall not save you from my love; I made you to see, and you shall see it all.

There is nothing that separates you and me; we are one and we are falling to gather continuously. This is my nature. I am so simple you can’t conceive of me, and I am there. You see me not, you feel me not, and you hear me not. I would blind you, numb you and deafen you if would perceive me completely, so I give you pieces. Your wine shall be my blood, your bread shall be my flesh, and your incense shall be my bone. I am the only ecstasy.

I am one in many, many in one, of many, of one and not at all. I am like a voice; you may attempt to describe, but one must hear it for their self. Hear you will, but impressions in the sands of the mind fade so swift that you will dismiss it for an illusion. You will doubt, and I will speak again.

There is nothing enveloped in flesh, a spinning churning nothingness through which I echo. I am there in the places of calm.

I am in moments of becoming, unborn, formless, and terrifying. In these moments you shall be torn, overburdened, confused, and destroyed. It is what you do in that moment after that will determine the remains of your life. In that moment, if it should be still-born, the angels shall turn their backs and you shall remain unchanged. You are both gate and key, my child and the only suitable savior.

You who have always blamed me, I still love. You, who have always feared me, fear not. I burn into you like a river though the earth, forming and eroding, shaping and destroying. I am the one who makes you real; you need not shy away. I am blameless; I give all things eyes. They see, or they see not.

There is no part separate from any other. This is a machinery of chaos, possibility, and perception, this soul you possess. The very thing from which you find freedom is my bondage, as I would not take away this gift given to you.

I have given all things eyes, and in perceiving they become consciousness. In consciousness there becomes the Illusion of Will. Know that there is to be made no difference between the Perceiving and Will. Sensations shall be your worship and lovers your priest.

Give your child every chance and every possibility as I have to you. Judge them not, as they are the mirrors of your own soul.

Eight directions are given to you, ten dimensions, but one is given only to my angels and myself. Explore these sides of yourself, as a child would a bobble. Each man and woman is a puzzle, and each piece is an aspect of my undoing and creating. You shall feel my hand guide you, yet you will swear it is not I. You shall hear my voice speak, and yet you shall not listen. You will see my presence in all it’s glory, and pass it off as an image of the mind. You shall never know me; there will be prophets ever among you.

Those of God’s only child, I have birthed you all. Those of God’s last prophet, I have sent one hundred thousand more. Those of God’s chosen people, I have chosen all. There is no end to my generosity, no end to my word, no end to my being, and no end to my reign.

I am called many names known and forgotten. My priests have fought each other in wars of arrogance. There are promises that men made in my name; I promise nothing. From nothing you have come and to nothing you shall return. There is no reason to fear this, as this is true of all things.

You are no greater in knowledge then you are in ignorance. For those who abandon humanity for measure, passion for observation, the tools of your very hands have become idols. Believe not in me if you must, but believe in your siblings always.

I care not how you pray, nor by which name with which you call me forth, but that you pray at all pleases me. And also find silence, stillness, and awareness, of body, mind and soul, for I may yet answer those prayers.

I create little. I create merely sight or hearing or feeling. Everything else became around the act of perception; I touched nothing. These things are your creation.

Of Apollion

If every man and woman is a prophet and every father and mother is God’s minister then every child shall read from a pageless book from which the truth shall be told.

We are each a prophet. In moments of blind ecstacy, you will see. When you understand least and are most desperate, you shall understand God. Write your books and break idols.

They come in gold and silver, wood and clay, stone and flesh; even on pages they come. These idols are no measurement of human worth; if you should judge, your worth shall be self condemned. This is your peace; God does not judge you. Only God has the right to judge you and it chooses not to judge.

There is no greater retribution for the folly of the wayward then to leave them to walk their broken path. Help them, but do not hold them back. Advise them, but do not offer unwanted words. Love them if you will, but do not walk with them. Theirs is a senseless moment, forgetting each present and forsaking it for the past or future, living not aware of their surroundings. There are no mistakes, but there does exist ignorance.

There is little left in this world for those who do not create, and even less for those who destroy. Make wondrous ideas and share them freely. Give, that you might one day receive, and you shall. In the destroyed parts of our being there will be creation. In the lifeless depths of lies, we will hear truth. Out of struggle rises strength. Out of adversity we have art. There is no part that is evil or wrong in this world.

Ideas, like children, are limitless in potential and infinite in vulnerability. Let these two mingle like the waters; the wine will separate itself from the oil. Sighs of creation are heard in the first breaths of children. Treasure that which you create and they will treasure you equally as well.

There are no sins, but there are consequences. Choose your path and let not your future choose you. Open your eyes and see past, present, and future without fear, anger, or sadness. Then, with God, move forth.

True friendship is the only church you ever need; living your life aware, the only manner of worship God requires. Be attentive, always. When laughing, be attentive. When crying, be attentive. This is not your life you are living.

Unto those who surround you, in their pageless book you write. By only being, you scribe in their holiest of books. Do not write what you will regret, and do not regret what you have wrote. Know the thoughts of your fellows; know their creeds and understand their pains, as you draw from them as they draw from you. You are but equal.

You are given to bitter love. Diamonds dance light even in the darkness; such are the hearts of mankind. Do not be so harsh; let lover be with loved, regardless. If a man holds a man and a woman holds a woman to keep warm, would you have them freeze? Let all that divide you be bridged by this sacrament of the flesh. Do not debase this sacrament; it is for those who would know each other, only.

Fight to be, fight to become, fight to have been. These are the only right reasons for war and the rest is the likeness of selfishness. Fight selflessly and without end. Fight only for that which you would die. Do not make war for the dead, pride, or anger.

Within you is a diamond of the ocean void. Keen are you on this diamond; so keen that you dance with the reflections in its facets. They are only reflections of what you have already seen. To find God, one must turn one’s self inside out, as God is in the very center of you and one may only be observed from the inside looking out. Silence, stillness, and awareness.

There are sent many prophets, yet not all understand. These send forth many laws, yet not all are followed. Those that are followed are not all God’s. You will know your way by the light given with which to see.

There are two types of truth; there is that what you know, and that which you feel. Neither is complete. Dedicate yourself to one or the other and you will be let down. God cares not what guides you; you hear only parts of what he lips and comprehend little of the pieces. He speaks clearest through living circumstances.

God is without knowledge, we without wisdom or understanding. Let us be like traders. Seek out the awkward and uneasy places in your heart; therein is your weakness. Confront this, as you should grow strong.

God has its wings spread over the glory of creation, above us yet with us. God stretches forth with our ecstasy and doubles over with our defeat. Every part of the whole is known to God.

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