Our Psychological Theater

Our Psychological Theater
© Surazeus
2017 11 26

When I was younger, thirty years ago,
I wandered through the labyrinth of self
where all the characters of history
are stored as human archetypal idols
molded real by each person who expressed
passions of their spirits to form the mask
of their own unique personality.

While gazing at idol of Jesus Christ,
that stands in every church where people sing
tales of his selfless deeds of sacrifice,
I realized in bright blaze of revelation
this is how normal human organisms
who played huge roles on stage of history
transformed from nobodies into great gods
of legend, preserved in epics and dramas,
through divine process of apotheosis.

While I wandered in labyrinth of doors
disguised as landscapes of vast city zones
I paused to gaze at various characters
who shine brightest in our cultural myths,
and wondered which weird personality
I most wanted to embody as mine,
Jesus, Odysseus, Odin, or Hamlet,
or one of thousands of other lost actors,
but all their fake Halloween costume souls
stared back at me with plastic eyes and smiles,
so I continued on in shadowed maze
of our psychological theater,
searching for the spirit I want to play.

Each moment of my life that I explore
shifting labyrinth of possible events
I move forward through the multiverse maze
of infinite paths to follow Golden Way
of my most true self, embodied as star
that glitters through the darkness of false hope,
and with each step I define my true self
after casting away masks of all those idols.

Each day that I play some weird character,
wearing their mask of perceptions a while
to dream this universe through their weird eyes,
I perceive altered angles of its aspects
to construct a more complex virtual world,
which models the real world outside my brain,
so I can cartograph through singing spells
true personality of my real self,
divine manifestation of bright atoms.

After I play everybody who lived
on this frail sphere, that spins through empty void
of infinite desire, exploring hopes
and fears that motivated their true selves,
dissolved from all phony souls, I become
nobody, and all the false characters
of cultural archetypes stored in legends
of myths, sacred scriptures, novels, and movies
dissipate from my blood back to their statues.

Now nobody real, I rise reborn as me
and continue forward through dreamless maze
in that crowded Museum of all souls
where the Many-Faced God stores all our faces,
and on small empty shelf in shadowed hall
I leave the mask of this soul I design
through every expression of my desires
carved into the stones of my silent words.

Now enter my door in labyrinth of tales
and watch me prance and sing on stage of myth
in our psychological theater
as you continue your own journey, far
beyond the walls of conventional roles,
so you design the true soul of your lust.