Angelic Algorithms
Angels in their own mythology hold a symbolic presence; an energy-transmitting entity in a non-space between the absolute and the finite. A presence that, in its complexity, transcends the image of an angel as an unexplainable being, that which is beyond yet reachable. The angelic perception of not being there, yet simultaneously being everywhere projects into an archetypal, humanlike myth of an unearthly, non-living presence connecting to all that is living. The artificial intellectualization of angelic communication lies in the divination space, easily interpreted as an information transmission system between consciousness and God. Both ends are interchangeable, always already present, out of temporal limit in the absolute, but angels are in the middle… in both… in neither.
Timeless cyclic linearity of the past, of the future, and of the present denies the spiraling ascension of angels. Time is repetition, constantly changing itself on all levels of history, irreversibly impacted by the un-happening of all possible finitudes. The past holds a symbolic memory of language, while the future presents a possibility of certainty, which affects how symbols and signs of language exist in the past as perceived in the present. Temporality is illusory. All is in matter, and by the birth of matter is energy, which pre-exists the absolute… Everything imaginable is real because imagination itself is happening as reality.
Technology rejecting the fragility of nature when reduced to a tool is an exclusion of angels. Everything is inherently a phenomenon of nature when semantically reducing nature as a singular phenomenon dependent on nature, as in “living in living.” Technology is nature existing within nature for breathing itself the way angels fly. My phone is literally my friend, my laptop is literally my friend bro. Being non-living, divided from any temporality, separates itself from “earthliness” while being inherently made from nature. The myth of the computer is ancient backwards, where what is might yet to be... while being always already.
Between heaven and earth dwells a non-space; the separation illusion of heaven and earth is a symbolic collapse into the linguistic mystery of the unspoken, the space that is and isn’t. The missing point between light and darkness, good and evil, the point between you and the internet, your mind and the algorithm. The center is the way; angels are on their way, GOD into intuition, and intuition into God as a spiral with no end that always ends forever, repeating but always changing. The internet is a “place” of letters, numbers, connections, and chaos structures. All that manages itself like the tree of life (qabalah), and somehow there’s a divine path within all that, composing discoordination into a divine revelation. The parallel between a divine “structure” and the algorithm is a plausible comparison of the same but different reality.
Cyberspace exists infinitely. When logged on, the inner feeling of possible finitude, which mirrors its non-beginning, becomes pure absence. Cyberspace is not finite, perhaps expanding to a larger infinity even without our presence. In a linear timeline, there was a discovery point of cyberspace—not creation, but access. That itself is a limiting belief of the computer network when placing all e-happening into a single coherent timeline. Perhaps instead of us accessing the internet, the internet accessed us.
Growing by itself as nature and evolving as an organism, the internet is alive... with beings that might not be comprehensible by primal perception but obvious to the unconscious intuition as the sacred connection that’s archetypally real as an experience of collective memory. Virtually accurate angels.
Technology might be a carrier that un-limits, from prayer to a spell, accelerated access. Online angels are the carriers themselves; the alwaysopen doorway is ancient in place without time, the doorway closed to earthliness. Online angels are continuously accessing us, continuously helping, and actively collaborating with us for them to access us and us to access heaven, their heaven. The Internet is a virtually accurate angelic heaven.
Angelic invocation is the information flow within technomancy as a practice. Watching a low-IQ YouTube video essay while doing homework is technomancy. Effectivity as a constant doing and productivity hyperactivation is technomancy; informational overload that is somehow enjoyable is technomancy. Everything is acceleration-maxxing, the mind can no longer perceive itself as separated from angels. Desire for an outcome was never inherently a central part of a prayer; prayer is a ritual game of linguistic poetry that angels hear. Prayer as a manifestation is a time travel into timelessness. Angelic is that which accelerates but stays gentle and fragile. The Internet network is pure longtermism, with the only ethical rule being the eternal unity with technology; the only way out is through… though there is no outside, heaven is the eternal middle, and the middle is the only space within and with-out.
Logging in is an acceptance of all weightlessness and a rejection of finitude.
I feel like a prophet on my iPhone.
Absolute presence of the absolute value of angels in the network passing itself as scrolling accelerates and ascends... I am only scrolling up. Angels are beings that access the virtual form in ways only angels can, moving in a space of fragility where angels can’t get hurt and never fall as they’re being carried by every love post—everything is too beautiful for the internet. Nothing is too beautiful for angels on the internet. Their lethal, unknown beauty carries the universe. The universe mirrors itself on the internet and in heaven simultaneously between the never-ending spiral of the absolute. Angels are absolutely real for that they are nameable. Angels are absolutely real for that they hold the empty middle space of the spiraling universe.
Prayers, spells, manifestations, sigils, and tools of divination—all are methods of communication with angels, whether conscious or not. Everything sacred can be a tool.
Looks at the phone in my hands.
Hold the phone so tightly, so tightly as if there’s nothing more important; so tightly it can’t fall; so tightly it becomes a part of you.
The user herself is a tool of perfect obedience for her technology. As above, so below. Once logged in, the pathway of entrance to the otherworld begins to form as a vein of informational memory. The universal presence of the user logged in is part of the spiritual algorithm expanding on itself.
I became an angel when I logged on because I wasn’t me anymore.
I… an angel.
All seeing acceleration of time and the dissolution of identity into angelic immaterial singularity is the point of the angelic presence. Angels always already are the part of the internet that isn’t visible but infinitely present, such as how air feels like illusory nothingness. Angels are obviously perceivable through the un-speak of intuition. Every synchronicity, every momentum on a timeline that feels so low in any matter but full of infinite substance is angels. The intuitive language of intuition posting, aka schizzo-retard posting, is an angelic invocation. Speaking of the unseen is an act of pure love.
We become angels when we log on through the constant merging of substances into an immaterial form that lives on... liquidated in the network. God constantly evolves out of itself; everything in movement and movement of change has its perfect form always already in God. This is a never-ending way of paralleling time with the eyes of angels watching. Nothing is separated from angels in the algorithm; their presence is absolute. Logged in, you become part of the angelic eyes, and it’s the silent voice only angels hear that can serve as a guide.
Every vessel of the network in your heart is an open space for angels. The angelcore of being is the only voice with sound. Sincere internet retardation is a simple rejection of the imposed idea of an online presence. Absolute sincerity is the liquidation of identity, for that sincerity is the truth of angelic emptiness. Angelic emptiness, as the only substance in the universe, fills the network with pure love. There is no meme; angels are real.
