Consumers - Coming Soon

Founder: Cezary Wieczorek 

Year of Channelling: 2025

Fixed Fee System: No

Nos. Attunements: 1

Symbols: No

Prerequisite: Decomposers

 

After decomposition comes a specific silence, one you recognise only after experiencing it firsthand. You stand where something once existed, feeling its absence as tangibly as touch. The ended relationship. The shattered belief system. The carefully maintained version of yourself, now gone. All that structure dissolved, leaving behind a clean, raw emptiness that terrifies even as it beckons. The decomposers finished their work and departed. The old architecture surrendered itself to base elements. Now you stand on ground cleared down to bedrock, nutrient-dense and primed, uncomfortably bare.

 

From this silence, something emerges....... 3Hunger.

 

Real hunger, the sharp, honest, clarifying hunger of an organism with space inside it again. Room for something new. Readiness for input. This is what letting go prepared you for. Decomposition was never the finale; it was the clearing of ground so something could actually take root in soil ready to receive it. This hunger forms the essence of what it means to be a Consumer. The word feels debased now, conjuring shopping carts and credit cards. But its origins are primal: from Latin consumere-com- (altogether) and sumere (to take, to seize). Not merely to use, but to take thoroughly. To use completely. Originally, consumption was an act of finality and transformation: fire consuming forest to ash, body consuming food to energy. It meant obliteration through absorption, the necessary, intimate act of breaking something into essence to fuel new life. We lost the thread somewhere. Markets sanitised the word, sanding its edges smooth. An existential act of metabolism became an economic transaction. The transformative fire was replaced by a treadmill going nowhere.

 

We built a civilisation of frictionless, endless consumption where the default became "yes" to everything. We began swallowing everything offered without asking whether it nourishes or depletes us—the outrage bait, the spiritual platitudes, the teachings never finished, the relationships that drain us. All of it going in, yet somehow we're starving with full stomachs. This is consumption's shadow: taking in without digesting, becoming bloated with the unprocessed world. This is what happens when an organism loses its discernment mechanisms. When instincts evolved to distinguish food from poison get overridden by an environment designed specifically to bypass them. Your attention is your mouth. Your boundaries are your teeth. Your discernment is the gut intelligence that knows the difference between what builds you and what dismantles you.

 

Consumers teach you how these systems broke, how they remember themselves, and how to work with your own biology instead of forcing it into shapes it was never meant to hold. Decomposition cleared the ground. Now you're learning what to plant—except it's wilder than gardening. More like remembering how to eat like an animal again: intelligently, selectively, without shame. You're made to consume. It's your evolutionary role, your interface with reality, your primary method of building a self from the raw material the universe offers. The question was never whether to eat, but what actually nourishes you and how to discern the difference when everything arrives wearing the same face. This attunement reclaims that word from the marketplace and returns it to the realm of ecology and spirit. So you can stand in that cleared, fertile ground, feel the honest hunger, and learn, finally, how to feed yourself.