Buddhism falls for the basic illusion of human being, which is that we live only in our cephalic brains— the eight pound lumps of fat sitting over our feeding tubes in the periscope appendage flanging off the bottom of our torsos. 

Yes, bottom. What you suppose is up in fact points into the void, and what you suppose is love— the sun, light— and truth— the void— are, if you pay to attention to particle physics and animal behaviors, nothing of the kind. In physics and nature both, matter declares itself to plainly interested in joining with other matter. Indeed, existence itself is relational— we know this in quantum and in relativity. Absent relationships, a thing cannot be said to exist— period. So it is a fundamental tenet of being: Embrace is all, and All is embrace. This fundamentally means: love and gravity are precisely the same thing, which is why we hug and hold one another to physically experience love and be vitalized by it, rather the fuck each other off into the nebulous ether, and it is also precisely when we fall in love with another, we fall more deeply into them, and not away.

What’s more, your cephalic brain in your periscope head which you so delude yourselves into thinking is your only brain is not only the third to form in the womb, it the absolute last to finish developing— for males, 25 years after birth. No other animal indulges such an absurdly long whelping period.

The first brain is also the largest, and it occupies the whole center of you. This phenomenon named science is precisely where you began, where you bloomed from your mother. Your navel, where mother and father crossed through each others’ mirrors and sparked the zygotic devision that began the began bloom that blooms you even today, marks the center of this knowing center, which science recognizes today as your Enteric Brain. This brain is composed of 1.5 as many neurons as your enteric cephaloneurology— which in your periscope narcissism you require is “the most complex thing in the Universe”— and it doesn’t stop there. By cell count, everything in your enteric brain vastly outnumbers everything else that is you. Most of that? Flora.

This work will introduce you in depth to the miracle of this enteric brain, and it will unveil to you the angelic power of your pulmonary brain. For now, understand: That enteric brain is nearest to the ground, and you are held to that ground by gravity’s embrace, by the physical might of your Mother’s love. 

Ladies, recognize: what you think is down is in fact up. What we mistake for love is nothing of the kind; what we have no regard for— our earth— is in fact the highest truth that matters the most.

Why are we crazy? Could it be that you’ve allowed that the whole of yourself can exist only in the periscope flailing off your head, whirling dizzily through the chaos of unmeaningable chaos of the void?