I'd like to see you try and stop me

Do this. Think about what I'm going to tell you - do that.

There's an idea, it comes to you, you like it, you like it a lot. You take it into you and try to make it into something. You look at the few sentences you've strung together and think to yourself that you want it to become something. A book, many books, a system, a plan, your plan for your future, anything, something. You have this in you now and you're going to carry it through. Carry it through. Carry it through.

What does that even mean? I mean practically. What is the day to day that you face now, that you've taken this idea into yourself, now that you've submitted to its dominion in your life? Will your relationships suffer? Will you lose interest in your job? In your family? How far will you take your efforts? Who are you, when the idea comes to consume you? When you're held in its grip and in its thrall? Can you have an idea stronger than you? Or can you have an idea that's weaker than you?

So we're back to asking - what is an idea? Is the idea god? I had a vision, where the idea, all of them, together, they are the consciousness of the world and people, we - us - we're the teeth, we digest matter that feeds the idea, the idea is all things, everything the Reason.



What is love to you when the idea is in you? Does it matter? Is it an old idea? One that's tired, one that's been used before, to poor effect yet? Will you absorb it or abandon it for something... new? For your own idea.

We digest the thoughts we have to contribute to the larger thoughts. We are the organs of language, we are the method by which thought perceives.

It is by the works of human hands that thought grows. We are the hands of ideas.



Do we believe in things or know them? Is the difference between these the difference between happiness and sorrow? Or between different species of intellectual amalgams - the ghost-minds in the sky that we contribute to, as the biome, the ecology of the idea. We are preyed upon by language, we are the servants of these larger things - built up through the centuries, timeless, immortal. What are we, once the idea enters us? We are the vessels of ideas. We transmit knowledge, we transmute language into reality, into language into reality. We are the teeth and jaws of thought, the stomach of thinking.

As the 3 of cups is the first stable form, and the 3 of phones is the first stable form - those suits being built up upon relationships and work, the 3 of pens is the stable form. It is the stability that comes of knowing or accepting the state of solitude, exclusion, loss. It is the state of abandoning the doubts that come (and they come, I'll tell you) when you're deep in the work, deep in the idea. You lose sight of the world, and then regain it, in turns, and find yourself doubting - were you right to spend so much of your life? Waste so much of your effort? Can you communicate the idea? The idea is in you, the idea is the guide for who you are, what you do. What are you if the idea is fraud?

So forsake doubt, attention, affection. These are all attacks, hostile to the thing within you, the great, pure and real idea, the matter that you wish to bear, to give birth to. Any other notion, any division of your attention, that is a distraction - deadly to the germinating thought.



The 3 of pens, of Swords- it's a card for heartbreak - it connotes the solidity, the stability that comes of abandoning attachments, of refusing the external in favor of the internal. The heart is dead, long live the mind.