The differences between the Lived Life and Unlived Life are as misunderstood as a parakeet jumping on the keyboard having an epileptic seizure while ordering ruby-hued face-towels over a slow modem hookup. Alive or dead, conscious or sub/unconscious, real or imagined...these terms are all far too linear to support the thought process needed to fully invest one’s self in the feckless chaos that is Ryanetics.
The indolence of relegating one’s self to the mirthless lineup unto death is to do a great disservice to that same unimaginative self; the "ending" that you march towards while accumulating humanly wealth, proposed esteem, transparent prestige and trophy-wife trade-ins is, in all actuality, not the octagon stop sign of annihilation, but the sprightly triangular yield sign of The Subsequent Step; it is but the third Elevation Ascent through the Six Sublimities of Life:
The Anteceded Life
You become; your Beginesis is that nulling first thought of the unthinkable, the cogitation of cerebration that doesn’t yet exist. This is the time in which you metaphysically bash on the doors of the Lived Life, kicking at the back-entrances of the sperm-meeting-egg congregation, planning your arrival into the Subsequent Step where you will eventually be free to spend your time doing something other than thinking about the non-thoughts that don’t exist in the pre-Lived Life void of the Anteceded Life. This Elevation coagulates your desire, your hunger to be birthed into a little diamond of will through sheer boredom alone.
The Lived Life
You, as you read this, are either gestating towards the age of 30 and the peak of your Lived Life vigor, or are tumbling down the hill of ignorance, unsure of what lies ahead or what you’ll be leaving behind. This is the most misused of the Elevations, climaxing in the façade of happiness that comes with a big house and three-car garage. It’s not "Did I enjoy myself?" on your death bed; it’s "What‘s next, and will my asshole neighbour be there?", because that figures very heavily into your personal status over the next four Sublimities of Life.
The Unlived Life
Remember that time you were in a hurry for that big meeting and you ran that crosswalk, missing that backpacked, school-bound kid by mere feet, and having to shove your fleeting guilt down your gullet with your too-expensive coffee? The same day that you side-stepped an old lady to the door of your office-building, letting it close on the backs of her grasping, arthritis-ridden hands, only to have the elevator take forever, and while you feigned interest in the blinking floor-numbers, she finally made it up the three unwieldy steps of the foyer only to have the elevator arrive...and while she watched you jump inside and hammer on the "door close" button, you felt one more tiny pang of remorse, but it still wasn’t enough to prevent you from getting those steel-trap doors shut while looking directly into her increasingly hateful eyes with all the care of a ten-year-old punk at an anthill with a magnifying glass. Remember? You never got called on any of that because you took the back-exit out at the end of the day, and everyone just shakes their heads at cars speeding through school zones rather than taking down license plate numbers.
Well, here at the Unlived Life Elevation, you will indeed get called out like the panty-sniffer you are. Make no mistake. This is PurgatoRy, and your next step up is going to take a lot longer than you’d have any reason to suspect.
In a hurry? Prepare to wait until your patience liquefies to get a call for ascent that may never come. Your body becomes an abstraction, as does the theoretical water-cooler that you sit around with all the other small but like-minded Lived Life Wasters that make it to this Elevation, drinking cheap coffee and complaining as to their lot in the Unlived Life; this is a holding pattern for the television channel of Life, and those who don’t figure so low on the gradation scale of Lived Life Wasters will only be emboldened and better served an Elevation Ascension if not only for their comparison to the above-mentioned decaying absolutes of stagnant Life.
Did you stop to smell the metaphorical roses? Well, then...enjoy your time bumming around the gorgeous fields of the best that abstract existence has to offer. Just relax, put your feet up, and slug back a few until Ascension. You’ll have the time of your Unlived Life.
The Supraliminal Life
The tap on the ephemeral shoulder calling you up to the Supraliminal Life is the last earthy sensation you will ever feel - in the conventional sense. You’ll spin your head around, because you’ll most certainly be startled, and that very motion that would have left you dizzy, confused, and a little be bit irritated during your Lived Life will be replaced by colours you can’t see, music you can’t hear, anti-exasperation you can’t grasp.
Sensation of stimuli is replaced by being; the movements performed by your astral-form will resemble swimming, yet there is nothing to "swim" through; you will be moving upwards without the hindrance of direction, volitant without a diametric.
This Life is a Learning Life, to prepare you for the penultimate Realm of Ryantology...
The Abortive Life Lived on Outer-Zaelion Seventy6 (AKA, "The Zaelion Millennia")
Giant dragons shaped as mushroom-clouds greet you as you cross the threshold into Outer-Zaelion Seventy-6, smiles of pure light and vindictive-less energy loud as a bomb across what would be their wind-swept faces; whole expanses of strawberry-coloured bamboo-stalks shiver in anticipation of being brushed aside by you, the next Abortive Life; unicorn-horns capture the giggling noises of a hundred-billion ecstatic waterfalls and shoot them through the lenses of their eyes to tickle the salty under-carriages of crescent-shaped moon-women with hundred-foot-streams of green-tinged flame for arms; your entire family, mom, dad, and sister, standing in front of you as one being, dancing at a breakneck pace to a multitude of different-sized pins dropping upwards, all while standing and remaining perfectly calm...
Ruled by a leader of pure omnipotence, Jbz1, a self-enveloping being of dimensionally-pure white-hot flatness with ideas for a body and comfort for words, you will be taught the ways of absurdity; the reasons you were treated to withstand sensation-provocation was to be overpowered by any stimulus that your Abortive Mind can fire from its core like so much excrement once you entered Outer-Zaelion Seventy6, leaking out what might be left of your imagination into your "reality". Ascension to the final Sublimity of Life requires a passport stamped with the ink of over-stimulation on paper made from supraliminality and a head-nod from Jbz1...all of which takes exactly, to the second, one-thousand Lived Life years.
The Longtime Lastingness Life of Living
Omnipotence.
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