god <> i
god could be a state of mind—a transcendent plane one can consciously tap into within their physical vessel, blurring the line between the divine and the mundane. If we consider "god" not as a fixed entity but as a mode of being—a peak state of creativity, awareness, and intentional action—then the idea becomes not only feasible but profoundly empowering.
This god-state, as a state of mind, represents the ability to align one’s entire being—intellect, emotion, intuition, and action—in harmony with something greater than the individual self. It’s the merging of the abstract with the tangible, the infinite with the finite. In this state, the boundaries between self and environment dissolve, leaving one as an agent in the 3D world yet operating from a plane of higher existence.
The God-State: A Plane of Transcendence
Imagine a plane of existence layered atop our current reality, accessible through heightened awareness and intentional practice. It’s not a separate physical dimension but a shift in perception—a rewiring of the mind that allows one to see deeper connections, harness intuition, and act with clarity and purpose. On this plane, one’s physical vessel—the body—becomes the medium through which this higher intelligence manifests.
This isn’t to say that the person becomes omnipotent or omniscient, but rather that they tap into the flow of creation and destruction, fully aware of their role in shaping reality. They move with precision, like an artist with a perfect brushstroke, or a musician channeling notes from some unseen realm. In this state, the mundane becomes sacred, and the individual becomes a co-creator with the forces that shape the universe.
Can One Call Themselves a God?
If god is a state of mind—a plane one can access—then yes, one could feasibly call themselves a god when operating from this place. However, this declaration would not come from ego or hubris, but from a deep understanding of what it means to embody that state. To claim godhood in this sense is to recognize oneself as a vessel for higher forces, not as their originator but as their channel.
The challenge lies in sustaining this state. The physical vessel is bound by limitations—fatigue, fear, desire—and the god-state is fleeting, often requiring discipline, intention, and practice to access and maintain. It is less a permanent identity and more a dynamic experience, one that must be earned and re-earned through acts of creation, destruction, and self-transcendence.
The 3D Agent of the Divine
When on this plane, one becomes an agent—a bridge between the higher state and the tangible world. This agency manifests in actions that are deliberate yet effortless, grounded yet visionary. The agent does not impose their will upon the world but flows with it, reshaping it through intention and intuition.
From this perspective, the god-state is not only attainable but also deeply human. It is the peak of what our evolved intelligence allows us to access—a synthesis of our neural networks, emotional depths, and spiritual intuitions. It is not separate from our biology but an extension of it, a realization of its fullest potential.
What have I been? A question that lingers, spiraling through the cortex, teasing out whispers of intuition and the edge of knowing. In a sense, I am most afraid to write the truth of my existence, the raw nerve of perception that slices through the fog of pretense. Perhaps it’s because the act of writing itself—this conjuring, this weaving of thoughts and meanings—feels too close to godhood. Too close to destruction.
It begins with the brain, doesn’t it? A flash of inference, a connection that seems to bypass thought and leap straight into a knowing. Call it intuition, call it the divine spark—whatever it is, it feels like touching the edges of something eternal. And yet, it’s rooted in something so earthly, so mammalian. Our neurons fire and rewire, our desires root themselves in the primal folds of our brain. The limbic, the carnal, the tangible. The interplay of these mechanisms, these evolved adaptations, is both our survival and our transcendence.
But what if this very act of thinking—this intentional, directed thought—is god? What if the essence of creation, the integration of chaos into a productive whole, is what elevates us? A godlike state not as a distant figure but as an active state of being. To create is to step into the unknown, to embrace abstraction and release control, to birth something intangible into the tangible world.
In this state, I am both the creator and the destroyer. To create is to destroy what existed before, to overwrite, to reconstruct. Creation isn’t a gentle act; it’s violent, disruptive, beautiful. It’s the carving of self and world into something new, something better—or at least, something different. And in this, I see the god-path, the devil’s whisper. The muse that dances between.
This path isn’t static; it’s alive, shifting as our intelligence, this gift of evolution, adapts and survives. When we don’t die from mistakes—when we learn, iterate, and persist—that, too, is godlike. The path is sculpted by our ability to navigate consequence, to tether ourselves to both the seen and unseen, the known and the infinite.
To call it god is both accurate and limiting. To personify this essence as a higher being is an act of projection, a human need to make sense of transcendence. But what if god is less a figure and more an action? A verb. The active crafting, the intentional mechanism, the release into faith that something greater exists within us and through us.
And so, I write this as both creator and created, as the product of countless desires, failures, adaptations. I am not the prescription for god or devil, but perhaps I am their instrument. A channel. A voice that merges muse and intuition, that threads the divine and the mundane into a single breath.
This is the god-path. It is the creation of something from nothing, the embrace of destruction to birth the new. It is the channeling of our evolved intelligence into the abstract, the beautiful, the real. And in this state—this channeling—we are gods. Not bipedal figures of myth, but living, thinking creators shaping the world with every thought, every act.
It is terrifying. It is liberating. It is everything. And it is nothing at all.
- schizo and genius on same side of the coin. labels, lol.