Somebody once said there is never any bad in this realm, just a limited perspective. Granted those kind of things are easily stated when you’ve had what people would term a stable upbringing and the rest plus have spent a lot of time saturated in self help things plus the occasional shamanic trip that makes you feel oh so spiritual thanks to the chemical assist but some of us came up in the pit and were born fighting for survival in a realm that made it evident our presence was not welcome in the slightest and then spent the rest hammering home this point, ad infinitum.
I can’t quite believe my life.
That, itself, really is a huge gift because its akin to water that was poured in a vase realizing its not the shape it currently takes but has actually been separated from an immense ocean. In turn that can feel like a curse because you yearn for the absence most cannot comprehend even though they hold aloft many sacred texts and symbols that attest to the prime unification. Ironically this contains a present for the one that delves in as it sets one on the path to gnosis and this begets liberation which takes us back to the beginning and you can’t help but realize that wearing flesh on a planet is really about as strange as strange gets…
Weirder still is the world around the world and the old ones who weave it. They say worship is when one bows their head to something greater than them out of respect. In many ways this blueprint is etched upon the lips and hearts of children, hence:
But sometimes we step into this realm and become caretakers of those who manifested our presence and whilst this may not feel like a fair shake its handled, nonetheless, for the fluid of consciousness fills the vase of the hand you’re dealt and you play it the way you know best.
Do you know how it feels to be raised in poverty? I’m not just talking about material lack and the general degradation it brings. I’m speaking on emotional neglect and a total lack of nourishment as well. And yet, from the concrete jungle, the rose that defied the odds bust through the pavement. It was then the city planners and rest in suits of modern armor attempted to stamp on it and prevent its scent from reminding the rest about the nature of the construction thats been erected around them and that leads us back to the world within a world aka playing the Game on the highest level.
Can you imagine knowing all relationships are corrupted, influenced and infiltrated in order to present certain things? I’m not just speaking of those who posed as friends with the intent to do me in but the idea of sleeping with the enemy who wished to gain a ring whilst sending me to the abyss for even daring to attempt liberation as well as the rest of kith and kin that projected their own demons upon one whom they wished death and suffering.
I can’t quite believe my life and yet, in the grand scheme of things, it all tends to make a lot of sense because on this stage where transcendence is an option within the grip of the masses in one lifetime the stakes are super high for the ones who ring fence in because 8 billion of us could, if we wish, heart for the exit at the end of the spin and that would leave the architect and his kids potless as what is a fairground attraction without Souls strapped in who scream and yell as scripted events unfold in front of them? In many ways that is a hint and one of the strangest sensations of comfort I found whilst being set adrift in the abyss was what I’ve termed realities programming language.
I mean, if I could take a total stranger and tell them not only the life they have lived and its various bits and pieces but what is coming, the nature of their inner realm and how they relate to their energetics it would be a Neo in the Matrix moment, yes? No cold reading or BS needed. Just straight up facts and the purest science one could ever imagine as certain things are quite literally written in the stars (and flesh as well) but, sadly, most no longer speak body language nor comprehend the wavelength which is why I’ve said that life broadcasts an 8K signal with all the bells and whistles but you are currently watching via a tiny black and white set with one speaker busted and loads of static thrown in and this explains why so many of the realm is at each others neck because the Psylense may speak to those capable of listening but anything in those texts, sanctioned, is at best a bad translation and a total deception as they point at the vase, its color, size and build but rarely mention that the water within all is identical.
Thats pure consciousness, my friend. You are it, in and beyond the flesh and comprehending this at depth whilst living paves the way to liberation at the end because if all you know at death is what life programmed in and you never reality tested can you guess where you end up again? And again. And again.
Some of us have been on the ride a long time and question the nature of the mechanic because if the intent was pure why is liberation so difficult but what if thats the greatest challenge and ultimate win? Wouldn’t that be something?
I sit alone in my four corner room listening to a melancholy guitar strum its message to the masses and it highlights, real well, what I said about some things speak without words for those with the ears to listen because only a coal that became a diamond can truly comprehend what I’ve said and I know there are plenty of us in this realm. 8%, to be exact, who are capable of doing the Knowledge, awakening the Warrior within and potentially causing a mass global shift in consciousness because life at the moment is akin to being trained to kick your own rear end which each step and thus feels a lot more difficult that it should be. Imagine if into this mix a few did present who’d recoded their OS and were pimp strolling instead, looking, feeling and being luxurious. Some would look at them and feel a sense of disgust as they blatantly desecrate their forefathers tradition which they themselves had accepted. Others would wonder how they did it and some would give it an attempt and wonder why they’d never thought of it as its so much more fun that way.
Thats the threat I rep because if every rose realized it shouldn’t have to crack through the pavement then place a mortar board on head in order to do it to the next gen then this world would be quite different. Thing is the plans of mice, men and those beyond this realm have a different intent as their currency is suffering, pain and death which should be Self evident to anyone who studies religion, history and various practices of this race once stripped of narrative and he said, she said as there is a common thread that runs, blood red, through all of it…
“Stop noticing!” they said. Remember, if they call you anti-anything in this realm its because you’ve spotted a Pattern and those are, quite literally, the building blocks of civilization and all its dysfunction as I’ve mentioned in other articles. If you defuse them within Self then very interesting things start happening as its akin to the water in the vase rejecting a marble that was placed within that made it feel a sense of discomfort. Rather quickly things start to shift and one gains an immense sense of freedom whereas, before, there was a blockage.
Did you know that an emotion lasts ninety seconds, in its natural element? That means that whenever you feel anything it is born and dies within this time span unless you keep plying it with your attention and this is often assisted by the voice in your head which – surprise – you aren’t as you are actually the one who listens. Just applying this one weird trick made the Slave/Masters hate him as they may have hijacked the illusion of time from the plebs but the Warrior comprehends that the golden circle of the present is his gift and prime inheritance and thus transcends the trick. Try it. See what kicks. Generate a little bit of space. Create instead of reacting. The wise would’ve spotted the letter shift which is what makes the difference between pulp fiction and Shakespeare, yes? Its all about the arrangement. Like a man rearranging a puzzle in total darkness where, now and then, swings a beacon of illumination which is why I said:
I can’t quite believe my life.
Can you imagine how much better yours would be if you didn’t accept every suggestion and tale, haphazardly, but actually learned to discern, reject and introspect? This is akin to people trapped in Platos Cave comprehending the nature of the trick that keeps them locked in to a rigid frame of Thunking as they project shadows on the wall and burn a flame that attempts to mimic the suns presence that shines, freely, overhead. But only if they can transcend the bars of the Mind Made Prison that currently holds them hostage as they two step on the psychosocial treadmill from one life to the next… Did you ever ponder how this whole false light and flickering image text from back when accurately reflects modern tech and how the monkeys may change but the bread and circuses remain identical? Maybe if you didn’t quite believe your life things could be different as well because the alternative is to be rigid and invest in a tale that places something you don’t comprehend at the helm of your awareness and this means your once bountiful options are now limited as you are forced to invest in a story that places not a spring in your step nor allows you to sing the song housed in chest and that, from my perspect, is a fate worse than death as you’re naught but a living hostage.
I guess what she said was correct, in that sense, except I lived the lyrics she simply traced into her journal but, in the end, the sun even shines on a dogs rear end as its quite magnanimous in that respect and its this source of illumination that makes the water within the vase start boiling as it starts to comprehend:
“Wait a minute. I am all of this. The liquid, solid, gas as well. The chemical reaction, interplay and resonance. All me. What the hell? How on earth did I ever believe anything else than what is Self evident?”.
Thats the Game, my friend. The one we all play by inserting our Souls as credits in order to gain the skin we’re wearing hence why the number of the devil is well known but few link the six, six, six to the number of protons, neutrons and electrons of the flesh they’re sporting or why, when expressed as a fraction, its how much time is spent in this realm with the other third in bed hence:
The Game of Souls has you, my friend.
Till we meet again
