The Militant Intellectual - YHS

I Am God. And That's the Heaviest Thing I've Ever Admitted.

Just one old man's philosophical opinions — take them or leave them.

The Prayer Problem

I used to pray. Not on my knees, not in a building, just in that quiet space between thoughts where you talk to whatever you think might be listening. And for a long time I thought that was enough. That just reaching out to something bigger than me was the whole point.

But one day I caught myself doing something that I couldn't unsee once I noticed it. I was thanking whatever that force is for the good things. The morning that worked out. The moment of clarity. The unexpected bit of luck. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

And the flat tire? Nothing. The week I spent sick and alone? Nothing. I just quietly moved past those like they didn't count.

So let me ask you something. If you only thank someone for the things you liked and pretend the rest didn't happen — is that really gratitude? Or is that just a highlights reel you're presenting to something you're hoping will keep sending you good stuff?

Because that's what I was doing. And once I saw it I couldn't pretend otherwise.

If It's Everything, It Has to Be Everything

Here's where I had to get honest with myself.

If whatever this force is — and I'm not going to give it a name because every name I've ever heard came attached to a rulebook somebody else wrote — if it's truly the source of all of it, then it doesn't get partial credit. You can't say it's responsible for the beautiful morning and then blame something else for the suffering. You can't claim the good and dodge the rest.

And yet that's exactly what most belief systems do. They give you a God for the good stuff and then they hand you a devil to explain everything else. Satan. Evil. The fall of man. Whatever the tradition calls it, it's all doing the same job — it's giving you a place to put the darkness so your God stays clean.

But think about that for a second. If your God needs a villain to explain its own creation, what you're actually saying is that your God isn't everything. You've split the whole in two and only claimed the pretty half. And if it's not everything then logically something exists outside of it, which means it's not the source, which means you might be a few rungs down the ladder from whatever actually is.

The Gnostics were onto this. They called the thing people worship the demiurge — a lesser architect, a middle manager who built the cage and convinced everyone inside it that he was the ceiling. The actual source, if there is one, wouldn't need worship. Wouldn't have favorites. Wouldn't require anything from you at all.

So when I started thinking about what something truly all-encompassing would actually look like, the only thing that made any sense to me was something closer to the Tao. Not a being. Not a personality. Not something that hears you and decides whether you deserve a response. Just the way things are. All of it. The sunrise and the hurricane. The love and the loss. All one thing, moving the way it moves.

The Lightning Strike

Now here's the part I sat with for a couple of years before I could say it out loud.
If that force is truly everything — and I mean everything, not just the big cosmic stuff but every atom, every cell, every molecule that assembles itself into the thing I call me — then I'm not a piece of it.

I am it.

And I know how that sounds. I felt the fear of saying it long before I ever said it. That old reflex where you wait for the bolt of lightning to come down for your arrogance. I think most of us who grew up inside any kind of western religion carry that around whether we still believe or not. The idea that claiming your own divinity is the worst thing you can do. The ultimate sin.

But I sat with that fear long enough to look at it honestly. And what I found underneath it wasn't really fear of punishment.

It was fear of responsibility.

Because here's what it actually means when you follow that thought all the way through. If I am the source — if it's not out there somewhere deciding my fate but in here, in everything including me — then there's nobody to ask. Nobody to petition. Nobody to blame when things go sideways. No devil who made me do it. No cosmic plan I can point to. No God who didn't answer my prayer.

Every choice I've made, good and bad, the ones I'm proud of and the ones I'm not — all of it lands on me.

And I'll be honest with you. The lightning bolt would have been easier to accept than that.

The Exit Ramp

Now here's where I have to be straight with you, because I've watched people get to this same place and then use it wrong.

Some people hear "you are God" and they turn it into a permission slip. Nothing is really wrong because everything is the divine playing itself out. All my choices are valid because I'm the source experiencing itself. I'm beyond judgment.

And I get the appeal. I really do. But that's not what I'm talking about.

Because if you arrive at this conclusion and the first thing you feel is lighter — if the accountability goes down instead of up — then you didn't really land where you think you did. You just found a more sophisticated way to avoid the hard part.

The real test, the only test that matters, is simple. When you get there, does the weight go up or down?

For me it went up. Considerably. And that's how I knew I hadn't talked myself into something comfortable. I had talked myself into something true.

What I Was Actually Afraid Of

Looking back, I can see the whole shape of it now.

The lightning strike fear — the blasphemy reflex — that's a lock that got installed early. Every major western tradition made self-divinity the highest possible offense. Not cruelty. Not exploitation. Not the things that actually harm other people. Claiming your own divinity. That one got the biggest label.

And I think about why. I think about what happens to an institution the moment its members stop believing access to God is scarce. The moment they stop thinking they need a middleman. The priest, the church, the tithe, the moral authority — all of it runs on the assumption that you were born broken and someone else holds the repair kit. The moment that assumption falls apart, so does the whole structure.
So the fear of the lightning bolt isn't really about protecting the divine. It's about protecting the architecture built around it.

But even knowing that, even seeing the mechanism clearly, I still held back for years. And the reason, if I'm being completely honest, was simpler than all of that.

I just didn't want to own it.

Thanking the Ocean for Last Tuesday

Here's something that made me laugh on my birthday this morning.
I started the day wanting to say thank you for the past year. All the experiences, the hard ones and the good ones, everything that happened between this birthday and the last one.

And then I caught it. I was about to thank something that exists outside of time for a calendar unit. For a year. Which is a human invention. A way we measure the movement of a rock around a star.

Thanking something timeless for the past year is like thanking the ocean for last Tuesday.

So I just said thank you for right now. Because right now contains all of it — the memories, the year, everything I'm carrying, everything that's coming. It's all happening in this one moment. And that's the only honest thing I could offer.

What I'm Not Saying

I want to be clear about something before I close this out, because I know how this kind of writing can land.

I'm not trying to talk you out of what you believe. I spent years inside a faith tradition and I know what it means to people, including people I love. I'm not standing here with a program to replace what you have.

I'm also not saying I've got it figured out. I'm saying I followed my own thinking as honestly as I could on one ordinary morning and this is where it led me. Tomorrow I might find a hole in it. That's fine. That's how this works.

What I am saying is that the conclusions most of us are afraid to reach — the ones that feel like they'll get us struck down — they're usually not dangerous to God, whatever that is. They're just dangerous to the systems that were built in God's name.
And there's a difference between those two things that's worth thinking about.

The Only Honest Path I Found

So where does all this leave me practically?

I still talk to whatever that force is. I still sit with it in the quiet moments. But I don't ask it for anything anymore. Not because I stopped believing in it but because asking it to solve my problems while I'm made of the same stuff it is — that's just a conversation I'm having with myself and pretending it's coming from somewhere else.

I'm responsible for what I do with what I have. The tools are here. They've always been here.

And the only thing I can do with that is try to use them honestly, take what I need, cause as little unnecessary harm as I can manage, and accept the whole experience — the flat tires and the good mornings both — without pretending I get to pick only one side of the coin.

That's it. That's all I've got.

I'm not selling anything. I came to this alone on an ordinary morning and that means something to me precisely because nobody pointed me here.
Maybe you'll get somewhere similar your own way. Maybe you won't. Either way it was always going to be yours to find.

Never allow another man's truth to be your own. Your mission here is to find your own truth.

2 days ago (edited) | [YT] | 8

The Militant Intellectual - YHS

"The system wants you quiet. That alone should tell you something."

The Oldest Weapon Nobody Talks About

There's a mechanism running underneath almost every system you interact with daily. The gas tax. The tip screen at the coffee shop. The organic food aisle. Your social media feed. The church you grew up in.

It's the same thing every time.

Here's how it works: something is taken from you — your money, your voice, your time. Then a moral frame gets placed around it. And suddenly, questioning the extraction doesn't feel like critical thinking. It feels like a character flaw. You're not a concerned citizen asking where your tax money goes — you're someone who wants crumbling bridges. You're not questioning a tipping system that protects employers from paying living wages — you're the person who stiffs servers.

You police yourself so the system never has to.

Alan Watts said it best: "Christianity institutionalized guilt as a virtue." The genius of that observation isn't just about religion. It's that the Church was simply the first institution sophisticated enough to write down and scale what humans had already been doing to each other since the first campfire argument. Guilt was the first weapon that left no marks.

And here's the deepest layer — the one that stopped me cold recently.

The guilt mechanism doesn't just protect the gas tax or the food industry or the Church. At its most sophisticated, it makes you feel guilty for exposing it. What if you're wrong? What if someone takes it too far? What if you cause harm by showing people the scaffolding behind the world they live in?

So you go quiet. You slow down on making new Real Talks. You self-correct.

And the system exhales because it has effectively silenced you again.

But then by some miracle you see it come full circle and you realize I'm not going to give in so easily anymore.

I'm not going quiet. And I'm not telling you what to think. I'm just pointing at the scaffolding and asking — do you see it?

1 month ago (edited) | [YT] | 5

The Militant Intellectual - YHS

That voice seeps into my old bones...

2 months ago | [YT] | 2

The Militant Intellectual - YHS

what this video is really about can be summed up in "@marbriela24" comment below.



"Your message came through so clearly. It’s beautiful. It really feels like you cracked something open. When I first heard your video, I honestly thought, oh no, I just found you again and now you’re leaving. But if you’ve ever had a spiritual moment like that, the kind where awareness suddenly expands, you know it’s hard to put into words.

You realize you’re the only one having that exact experience, and that’s exactly what I felt in your message. And just like in the Truman Show, even if there’s a script, you always have the choice to rewrite it and make it your own. There’s never any real separation. You’re always just seeing yourself."



What they wrote is actually the heart of what the video was trying to say.



It’s not that I’m leaving, or that I don’t want to help anymore. It’s that I finally realized something: no matter what I discover, no matter what understanding I reach, everyone who listens will come to their own version of it, Original YHS came to his own conclusion (he told me directly) and I came to mine, similar in some ways, completely different in others. And that’s exactly how it should be.



For a long time, without meaning to, I kept trying to guide people toward what I had uncovered. I wanted to explain it, shape it, point them to it. But at a certain point you wake up to the truth that trying to talk someone into your understanding no matter how genuine can actually take them further from their own.



Coming to that realization is a strange kind of closure. It makes you pause and ask yourself:


“If people look to me as a voice, what’s the most honest way to use that voice?”



I honestly think this is why OG YHS stopped. He had reached the point that he couldn't decide. I can't blame him. It's a heavy weight.



Do I keep trying to get people to accept my ideas?


Or do I start speaking in a way that helps them uncover their own?



@marbriela24 comment shows me that shifting toward the second path is the right move. They understood exactly what I was trying to express, that each of us has moments where something cracks open, awareness expands, and you realize you’re the only one having that exact experience. And the best thing I can do is respect that uniqueness instead of trying to shape it.



Like they said, even if there’s a script, we always have the choice to rewrite it. And maybe my role now isn’t to hand out scripts my own or others, but to simply share thoughts and let you rewrite them into something that’s truly yours. Live by my own rule of never allowing another's truth be my own without dissecting it.



There’s never any real separation. We’re all just reflections of each other. And if what I share helps spark something in your own journey even if your path looks nothing like mine, then that’s the most beautiful outcome I could ask for.

I love you all and will continue to do so. You are brothers, sisters and everything in-between the "ocean" of waves we all call the experience.

5 months ago | [YT] | 4

The Militant Intellectual - YHS

I have been writing more than creating videos. Maybe some of you will find it interesting 🙏❤️

open.substack.com/pub/tmiuncut/p/when-everything-w…

5 months ago | [YT] | 4

The Militant Intellectual - YHS

Great channel!

6 months ago | [YT] | 1

The Militant Intellectual - YHS

'I am not from this world. My true self is light trapped in shadow.'

Tell me…
why do they deserve death,
who already dwell in death?



You see, this world, this experience?

The one we call real,
the one we touch, taste, and bleed for,
is built on a root of darkness.



Gloomy, ancient, unseen…
the shadow beneath all form,
from that darkness came the moist nature,
the restless matter, the hungry clay,
that shaped our bodies,
and chained the light within them.



And from these bodies,
death drinks daily,
it drains the living water drop by drop,
until the vessel cracks,
and the breath escapes.



We call that moment “dying,”
but the truth is,
we were dying from the start.



We were born into it,
born into forgetting,
into noise,
into conditioning,
into eyes that see only shadow.



Yet even in the depths of darkness,
a spark remembers the sun.



Somewhere inside,
there’s a whisper,
"You are not from here".



And when that whisper becomes a knowing,
something stirs,
the sleeper begins to wake.



The light behind the eyes
turns and faces itself.



That’s the beginning of the return.



Not escape,
but remembrance.



Not destruction,
but revelation.



The world no longer owns you.



The body no longer defines you.



Death no longer drains you,
you draw from another source,

A living fountain inside the stillness.



And when the body finally falls away,
you rise,
through the veils,
through the watchers,
through the long forgetting,
through the programming,
back to the fullness,
the Pleroma,
the home you never truly left.



For you were never born of darkness,
and you will never die in light.



You are the breath between both,
the bridge,
the memory of the divine,
remembering itself through you.

6 months ago | [YT] | 18

The Militant Intellectual - YHS

Think...

7 months ago | [YT] | 1

The Militant Intellectual - YHS

#truth

7 months ago | [YT] | 0

The Militant Intellectual - YHS

truth

7 months ago | [YT] | 0