What was the fruit of which Adam and Eve ate in the garden?

I never cared for the answer to this question. Rather–I was never bothered to consider it, as my goals in life seemed unaffected by whatever the answer was. Since the early age of 6, I knew exactly why I was placed on this earth. I had three goals and three goals only for my life: To bleed, to love, and to die. Of course, the second two are much harder to accomplish than the first.

I got my first period in sixth grade. The blood which I believed would accompany an expansion of knowledge fell short. Embarrassing bled throes and sudden stomach aches replaced this gap. Now, at 19, I wonder if the blood and pain I feel is the expansion of knowledge I craved. To know biological pain. The unpleasantness which came from simply existing. And so, the statement would come to be: Suffering exists in the world. Was this true knowledge?

I don’t think I have yet to feel love, romantic love that is. I’ve had crushes and long winding complexities that connected platonic actions with romantic desire. But I’m sure that many people who’ve come before me have experiences that. I had enough discipline to walk, crawl, or, drag myself away from these instances. There is no love to be found in a relationship with someone who lacks the ability of self discipline and self assurance. This is a fact that will be proven time and time again. So, what does this mean? Love is only for the strong? Or maybe, love can only be found in the blissful ignorance of the weak? Because I have yet to feel romantic love, I will have to come back to this wondering. 

I haven’t died yet, and I don’t ancipate to! For a long time, I believed that if I reached the age of 25 without finding my Adam, I would be the one to rip my soul away from this body. To sever the tie between my physical and spiritual. In other words: to kill myself. I don’t know where I stand with this belief anymore. Rather– I can not say with confidence that I can die for another, but with a heart of naivety (and perhaps the love of a blissfully ignorant fool), I still hope to live for someone. Myself? My Adam? Which of the two will quell my hearts numbness? Or, will death be the only silencer which wins at the end?

I am not a psychopath or perhaps a sucicidal person. No. I think I am just a mystic. I find the three goals I have had in life paradoxical, and now that I have written them, I hope to reevaluate these paradoxes. I believe that the answer to life lies in the dead end questions we ask ourselfs every day. 

My blood which I’d believed would bring knowlege brought to me instead the knowledge of nothing. To know what is, one must first know what isn’t, right? If that is the case, my monthly renewal which assures my “creator essence” within my vessel (in other words, my womb) is what teaches me all that I am able to do, through all that I am not. I cannot stop my pain, which means I can start my pleasure. The unpleasantness which comes from existing Is unstoppable. This means that the pleasure found in being nothing is temporary. Death is the only permanent form of pleasure. Death—in this case—is temporary? My experience of bleeding taught me suffering just exists, while pleasure is crafted.

As for love? Love for the weak or love for the strong? Is love weak or is love strong? But of course– the paradoxical answer is that love is both! Love will burn your skin at the glimpse of a naked breast and cool your heart after you have sweated, bled, lost, and fallen. Love will leave your head a mess and your feelings a blur, while it can also be what picks you up to take you away from abusive experiences. “Love is not a weakening, if you feel it rushing in, don’t be afraid of it.” Hayle William said. I only bring her up because I currently I listen to the Paramore album while brushing my teeth and cooking. But I digress. But what does this lyric suggest? Love, the same love which rips your defenses and leaves you vulnerable is not a weakening? To feel it make you weak is something one should not be afraid of? Im only 19 and with little experience, but this sounds like a drug which a vast majority of the world seems to be poisonous-ly addicted to. 

But I must something confess now. As A 19 year old mystic , I am all the more susceptible to and under the influence of this drug. This, drug, seems to be my cure. Cure for what? Why, the unpleasantness that comes from existing. Death is a temporary pleasure. But could love be it’s permanent form? We are all aware of this fact from the moment we first bleed. Love blinds us to this world and reveals us to a new world. Suffering exists, but love is the key to crafting pleasure.

The talk of love and its key-ness must end somewhere. Death is an unavoidable feat that everything on this planet will experience. In death, solitude will come. I imagine the closest thing to death is the feeling of meditation. Not what the modern day equivalent of meditation is, expensive athletic wear and some form of matcha. The kind you see monks and buddhist performing, in simple robes and bald heads. The meditation that slows your heart, stop your mind, and stills your body. It’s a beautiful thing, I think. And so, death must be equally as beautiful, perhaps? But we as humans are destined to fight it. “Suffering exists, and death is the final act of it.” we view. Death leaves loss and absenses. People and things we love will die before us, or maybe us before them. This is why we hate it. We do not hate death, but rather, that we cannot all live and die at the same time. How selfish to think about! It is because of this that love can not be the permanent form of death, therefore it cannot bring us eternal pleasure! Because of our love, we live for someone else. We dedicated our lives on this mystical earth to self-inflicted and self-voluntary servitude. We love because they are there, we breath, eat, sweat, touch, and fuck because of another. But… to die for someone? No. To die without taking someone? To seek the silence which death offers all by yourself? To leave them? Abandonment! Romeo and Juliet were not far off. It is why our frail minds love that madman’s play. I wonder where I would stand in regards to my Adam, but deep down, I know I am no different than my peers. That madman has created something which reflects the human condition. Props to him, I suppose. Suffering exists, love is the key to crafting pleasure, and death is the selfish reward which we are all given in balance for suffering.

Death as an apology for suffering? Love as a key towards pleasure? But of course! I cannot be the first to think of such a thing (and I, a mystic 19 year old with a heart of vainity can admit to this!). Love is not restricted to living things, which is the first premise behind this declaration (love as a key towards pleasure)(given that we can let go of it in death and love another). The second? Love isn’t the only key which can bring you to pleasure. The first declaration (death in balance of suffering) has no premises or further explanation. We experience individual suffering as just that, and so death, the ultimate form of suffering, retribution, peace, and solitude, must come as an individual gift. How paradoxical, I imagine.

The fruit of knowledge which started this tangent. I must come back to this and state that I have lied. I do occasionally wonder what knowledge this fruit brought. Our conscious? Or our sentience? No. Maybe the fruit taught Eve that love is just one key towards pleasure and pleasure can occur through different means. Creation is another key, perhaps one more effective than love or one to be used in conjunction with any other key. Death as an apology for suffering must be what Adam had learned. To live life as a earnest, stable, strength wielding man, he will be allowed to rest in death, reunited with his efforts in the solitude of a barren mind, empty heart, and destroyed body.  We are awarded a life of power through suffering and can find balance in death.

I told myself what I wish to become in this world. At 19, I wish to become an inspirited meditator who rests herself upon mystics and within abundance. I asked the world if I can be accompanied by an empowered philosopher who creates himself. 

How clueless must I be to not realize my own words are paradoxical? A masculine who creates, and a feminine who meditates? But, in a way, my subconscious realized something which my conscious had not. Now I shall tell you with a heart of vain! To intertwine the fate of two, a fate such as Adam and Eve, a sacrifice must be made. 

I, through blood, was taught the knowledge of nothing and something. I sacrificed my ignorance. Through love, I will be given a key, a drug, and a cure to the world of pleasure. I sacrifice my level headedness and reason. Through death, I will gain solitude at the sacrifice of suffering. So through this union, what sacrifice must be given?

To be born, live, and die together—I tell you why that fruit must be eaten!

Adam will take Eve’s power of innate creation and subconscious mystery in order to place it in the physical world. It will not last, and as the world dies, so will his creation, but there is nothing that can be done. The man does not harness the power of creation but rather meditation! He will take and steal to attempt to create something. To build a man-made creation essence in his body and fill it with his own (or anothers!) lifeforce. So detached from his calling, he will grow closer to the feminine to make up for the loudness of his mind and need for power.

Eve sacrificed her creation and took forth Adam’s burden to suffer, to lead, and seek power. She will continue to suffer in her attempts before death. With her creation now in the hands of the man she was created for, she will lose her energy. She meditates to quiet her mind and womb which shout her birthright: her creation! She will create a life of “power” which lasts but is barren of its real energy. 

The two, Adam and Eve, have switched roles. By eating the fruit of knowledge, the two will forever be sacrificed to one another without any opportunity for retribution. The roles their creator had first prepared them in, the two turned away from! In turning away, they crossed their destinies and now walk a road meant for another. Adam and Eve themselves are the first paradox to ever be created, perhaps? 

My life goals (bleed, love, die) were never unordinary or unique, but rather a reflection of the story of creation. The story of my predecessors and my peers. In the debate of nurture v.s nature, nurture can not exist. Rather, nurture can only expose nature.

The only way to break this cycle? The interference from the divine universe, god, or some other beautiful entity, some might say. But I vainly wish to present another potential solution. This fruit of knowledge must be eaten again. We, as a collective, must all reach this seemingly omniscient place of knowledge. Will we, this new generation of Eve’s and Adam’s, really make the same choice? We must.  It will not lead us further astray but rather the opposite, it will bring us back to what we once had, like the mechanics of a button pressed twice, a lever flipped down then up, or a snakes venom used in its antidote. To-paradoxically- restore access to our birthright and find comfort in blood without pain, love without ignorant temporaries, and death without loneliness.

Deep in the heart of the mystical 19 year old writing, I say this: the real, omniscient value of good can only be yielded when evil is evil. We live in a world where good is found through doing evil and evil is found in those who actually do good.

 I beg of whoever reads this… end this paradox so that life might be just that for all–life. 

(Perhaps then I will be able to safely seek love without hidden agenda or manipulation of the creation essence I have left. My predecessors must know this answer, but this vain 19 year old ignorantly hopes to find her Adam as soon as possible. How paradoxical! I will ignore their advice until the age of 25, when my blood has stopped being an excuse, my love will no longer overpower my brain… and my death becomes my only security. Young knowledge is the key to ending the paradox, but to ask a baby to “bite” is impossible! It rains outside my window now, I wonder if the beautiful entity around me and above is pleased, disgruntled, or intrigued by my words. Thank you for reading, love.)