Life is indeed a mixed bag, no matter who you are. Just look at Jesus: he was the son of a God, for God's sake, and look how that turned out! We're all traveling through time together every single day of our lives. All we can do is do our best to relish this remarkable ride.
I just try to live every day as if I've deliberately come back to this one day to enjoy it as if it was the full final day of my extraordinary life. The truth is, I now don't travel back at all. Not even for the day. I just try to live every day as if I've deliberately come back to this one day to enjoy it as if it was the full final day of my extraordinary yet ordinary life. I also discovered that all the time travel in the world can't make someone love you. Live life as if there were no second chances.
And in the end, I think I've learned the final lesson from my travels through time, and gone one step further, the truth is: As man loses touch with his 'inner being', his instinctive depths, he finds himself trapped in the world of consciousness, that is to say, in the world of other people.
Any occultist knows this truth; when other people sicken him, he turns to hidden resources of power inside himself, and he knows then that other people don't matter a damn. He knows the 'secret life' inside him is the reality; other people are mere shadows in comparison. but the 'shadows' themselves cling to one another.
'Man is a political animal', said Aristotle, telling one of the greatest lies in human history. Man has more in common with the hills, or with the stars than with other men.
When these celestial animals burst into view, I was awed by their beauty. But when they became so strongly evident (as they quickly did) that I could no longer dismiss them by an act of will, I began to feel as frightened of them as I was of falling into that midnight abyss over which they writhed; yet this was not a simple physical and instinctive fear like the other, but rather a sort of philosophical horror at the thought of a cosmos in which rude pictures of beasts and monsters had been painted with flaming suns.
Em Hotep - Patrick Gaffiero