a youthful middleaged man with long, dirtyblonde dreadlocks stood uneasily on his front lawn in a rage with an "Inevitable" force. he spat and hissed wildly like an animal at "it" though each time he tried with all his might to nail it with a swift punch or focused dark arrow, "it" vanished. "The Inevitable" was not something i could process visually though i felt its presence strongly. it was strictly his personal soul-business, dealings with the shadow self.
he realized he was no match for "The Inevitable" force and withdrew into his home to what felt like his bedroom, though it looked like a mess of a mancave to me. alone in this dimly lit room he sat on a backless chair in front of a large oval mirror surrounded by an array of gadgets that looked to me like small piles of minuscule to large mechanical tools and disassembled machinery.
he stared intensely into the mirror, trying not to feel lost, searching heavily for something intangible to hold on to that would aid him in breaking free from his chaos. a long moment of frustrated, contemplative silence came and went.
suddenly, he reached for a handheld torch while simultaneously using his other hand to grab a strange round, shiny device whose dimensions matched that of a tennis ball cut in half. it was made of a chrome-polished heavy metal. with the torch he seared the stamp's flat side just until it glowed neon orange and spared no time branding the back of his left hand with it. in that moment, his anger and frustration peaked as the tides of pain rolled in. his whole body began to drip with sweat and subtly quake. he bit his lips hard and breathed heavily as he branded himself for a mental count of five firm seconds.
the pain, however, didn't really kick in until after he removed the stamp. at first appearance, the back of his left hand possessed the branding of a slow moving hyperbolic disk composed of faintly pulsing electric blue light geometry [see pictures] morphing in and out of itself, slowly spinning right and left simultaneously.
this wasn't any ordinary stamp...he branded himself with a living, moving, breathing, holographic microcosmic mandala seedling of sorts that was wholesomely astonishing to observe yet shattering for the mind to endure. he hesitated to look into it for he knew there would be no going back, but he had already come this far, and so he did. and as he locked into it with his eyes, its faintly pulsing electric blue light grew into a brighter and brighter luminessence, pulsing faster, moving faster, morphing faster, changing faster, growing in geometrical complexity and becoming something far beyond itself. he burst out with a painstaking scream... it didn't just hurt his hand to have an event horizon growing on it; it hurt his body, his mind, his heart, his soul. his quintessential everything ached and bled with god-light.
as his voice echoed, the seedling grew. as it grew, he cried out more. it was growing inward, defiantly defining its own laws of nature. its brightness stabilized from a pulse to a steady bright cyan glow, its colors shifted between electric blues to electric magentas and ultraviolets. the center of it collapsed and with it, a part of him died. a new birth was taking place.
fully exhausted, he stopped screaming and continued burning inside with kundalini surging through his core. two balls of light entered his body from the black hole on his left hand. they appeared as baby twin galaxies no bigger than a quarter each and swirled elegantly around eachother in cosmic dance, dazzling and frightening him at the same time. from within his body they moved slowly up his left arm, burning away all nutritional, emotional, psychospiritual wrong-doings within each cell of his body, leaving behind a purified genetic field for spiritual fire to materialize through. [just as in tool's parabola video.]
the twin galaxies did this through the rest of his body, slowly and steadily illuminating each and every cell. when they reached his brain, he lit up and beamed with divine fire. the rest is history/his story.
