I. The Awakening of the Philosurreal Postmodern Mystic

• The world is not made of logic alone. It is not a matter of rationalism. The infinite divine is not a puzzle to be solved but an experience to be lived.
• Truth is not a fixed construct but a mirage shifting between the known and the ineffable. The divine is not a doctrine. The moment it is spoken, it becomes smaller. The philosopher attempts to map it, the theologian tries to name it, but the mystic knows it cannot be caged in definition. Truth is a feeling, not a lesson taught in a classroom.
• The philosopher seeks structure; the surrealist dissolves it. The mystic surrenders to what remains after both are undone. When the philosopher’s structure collapses and the surrealist’s chaos dissipates, the mystic embraces what is left—pure experience, intuition, the ineffable. Mysticism neither builds nor destroys; it simply is.

II. The Dissolution of Meaning

• Meaning is not found but felt.
• The Philosurreal Postmodern Mystic does not impose meaning; they let it emerge in fragments—shifting, dissolving, reforming.
• Words are like light on water—never still, never absolute.

III. Art as Invocation, Not Explanation

• The act of creation is a ritual, not an argument.
• A painting does not justify its own colors. A poem does not apologize for its silence. Art does not explain; it summons.
• Mysticism is about direct experience. Art does not reduce it to logic or definition—it calls it forth, allowing the ineffable to emerge through colors, words, rhythms, and silences.

IV. The Tension Between Absurdity and Transcendence

• The absurdist sees futility; the mystic sees surrender.
• Albert Camus lets Sisyphus push the rock endlessly, but the mystic sees the rock dissolve into mist.
• Detachment is not cold; it is distilled attachment—paradoxical, shifting, alive. When illusion is stripped from attachment, it transforms:
• Distilled attachment: When illusion is removed but connection remains, what is left is something pure, free from possessiveness.
• Detachment: If, after removing illusion, attachment itself dissolves, what remains is freedom.

V. The Cosmic Uncertainty of the Philosurreal Postmodern Mystic

• The mystic does not dictate meaning; they hold space for its fluidity.
• Beauty is neither a path to morality (as Freidrich Schiller believed) nor a mere historical construct (as V. S. Naipaul saw it). It is an opening.
• The cosmos is not an argument—it is an invitation.
Fredrich Schiller saw beauty as a bridge to higher moral development. V. S.Naipaul saw it as shaped by history and power structures. But the Philosurreal Postmodern Mystic sees beauty not as a tool for something else, but as an opening—a threshold to something beyond logic or doctrine.

VI. The Manifesto Ends Without Ending

• No manifesto can be final. The Postmodern Mystic does not conclude; they dissolve into their own art.
• The moment a truth is written, it has already begun to shift.
• What remains is sensation, dream, and the quiet space between words.

* Reality Bends, Truth Flickers

Reality is not fixed. It bends, dissolves, and reconstructs itself through perception. A philosopher seeks to define it, a mystic surrenders to its unknowability, and an artist captures its fleeting essence in fragments. I do not choose between these paths—I walk through them all, letting their contradictions shape the rhythm of my thought and art.
Postmodernism denies absolute truth. Mysticism surrenders to the ineffable. Surrealism distorts the ordinary to reveal the unseen. My approach intertwines all three. I do not impose meaning onto the world, nor do I claim meaning is absent. Instead, I explore—allowing experience, emotion, and subconscious echoes to shape themselves into narratives without rigid conclusions.

* Detachment and Feeling: The Balance Between Coldness and Fire

There are writers who approach human suffering with cold intellectual detachment, reducing it to a concept rather than feeling it. V. S. Naipaul intellectualizes suffering as a symptom of history. Camus treats it as an absurd inevitability. Freidrich Schiller idealizes human experience through art.
I do not reduce suffering to an idea, nor do I romanticize it as necessary for enlightenment. Instead, I let suffering unfold as a lived reality—where emotion is at the center, but without sentimental excess. Detachment, for me, does not mean the absence of feeling—it is a distilled form of attachment. Emotions are not abandoned, but they do not cry for attention either. They exist in fragments, in surreal imagery, in a rhythm that is neither cold nor indulgent.

* Mysticism as Experience, Not Doctrine

Schiller sought higher truth through aesthetics, using beauty as a bridge between the material and the ideal. Albert Camus rejected ultimate meaning, embracing the absurd. I do not construct a system around mysticism, nor do I dismiss meaning as irrelevant. Instead, I explore mysticism as an experience rather than a doctrine.
Mysticism, for me, is not a system of beliefs—it is the feeling of standing at the edge of the unknown, sensing something vast yet indefinable. It emerges not through explanations, but through dreams, paradoxes, and fleeting moments of revelation. In my writing, mysticism does not impose itself as a guiding principle. It exists as an undercurrent—appearing in fragmented memories, surreal shifts in reality, and poetic abstraction.

* The Surreal and the Absurd: A Tension Without Resolution

Postmodernism often deconstructs meaning until nothing remains. Mysticism seeks the ineffable but often builds elaborate systems to define it. I stand in between—where meaning flickers but is never fixed, where the surreal does not escape reality but intensifies it.
Albert Camus once wrote, “A girl who has suffered rape hates it until she turns eighteen.” This is the cold detachment of the absurdist gaze—observing suffering from a distance, treating it as an object of analysis rather than a lived experience. This is where I diverge. I do not reduce human experience to theory. I do not treat suffering as an intellectual puzzle. I explore it through feeling, through sensation, through moments that resist absolute explanation.

* A Manifesto of Artistic Freedom

I do not write to teach, to guide, or to impose a system of thought. I write to explore—to let contradictions coexist, to allow emotions and detachment to intertwine. My approach is fluid—sometimes mystic, sometimes surreal, sometimes absurd, but always centered on experience rather than abstraction.
• I believe in detachment that does not erase feeling.
• I believe in mysticism that does not demand belief.
• I believe in surrealism that does not distort for the sake of distortion, but reveals hidden truths.
• I do not impose meaning, but I do not deny it either.
• I let the dream unfold. I let the fragments speak.

This is the core of my artistic philosophy—Philosurreal Postmodern Mysticism. It is not a school of thought, not a fixed ideology. It is an exploration, a rhythm, a movement through paradox and sensation.
I do not seek conclusions. I seek intensity.
And in that intensity, perhaps, meaning will emerge—not as something imposed, but as something felt.