Its an odd realization when it sinks in you’ve been murdered, again and again, in various other realms and facets of existence in order three drive the one life you’re currently aware of living to a similar end. Worse still is the ones who do this control the minds of the rest pottering around this realm and to them the very concept is insane and should lead to a padded cell with this dangerous type of thinking. Ironic, isn’t it? And yets it the unvarnished truth of what happened as per my current level of perceptions as I glimpse beyond the veil and get acquainted with my subconscious. Let me share a gift:
They say the liver is the only organ that constantly regenerates itself and thus it is, in a sense, immortal. Now I’d like you to consider this widely accepted tidbit on biological function and sprinkle a little bit of magical thinking up on it. Ready? The liver is immortal because of the combined resonance of you and your ancestors across the timestream. In effect the blood is identical as it flows and mixes through the generations. The awareness of this brings an insight I call “Grailkeeping” because that is who you be once this clicks. They say the previous three generations are the ones to whom we hold the closest resonance due to the strength of this effect but, over all, there is a definite trend of resonance and thus traits and skills are passed from one to the next until a suitable receptacle generates the resonance to reignite what was hidden in the bloodline as it descends through spacetime to the moment and onwards as well. Can your head stretch around this? Tell, me does this seem feasible to your senses? If so then it may just offer a hint how so much conventional wisdom is actually inherited ignorance due to a lack of reality testing, introspection and questioning the narrative. As such there are huge things hidden in plain site, the liver is just a simple example.
Did you know they say that Prometheus was tortured by having an eagle peck out his liver and it constantly regenerated, back when? Why this novel punishment? Simple, he handed man (whom the gods obviously detested in many forms of myth and religion, given their conduct) the gift of fire and this helped to civilize them. In other cultures we see the same style bought to life but they call him Hermes instead.
When they start killing these other versions of you off it manifests in this realm as a death wish, in a sense. Consider we have two drives and one is three free expression and the other says “I’ve had enough of living” and chooses ways exceedingly dangerous and bad for its health as a way of signaling this. Suddenly the plight of so many makes way more sense as this appetite for Self Destruction can only be quenched once the last breath pours in and out, mission accomplished. The astute will pick up on what was happening in the background of Tupac Shakurs life sentence in this realm as well as countless others less vocal who met similar ends and shared only a sliver of their complete promise. On the flip we have a surfeit of talentless hacks in as many fields as you can think who are forced on the masses as the end all, be all of skills when its quite obviously they’re actually lacking the vibration they profess and are nowhere near what they’re marketed. This is the sad reality of this life. You either roll on the tank and are well placed or come under its treads if you stand against as your groceries go flying and you are airbrushed from the HIStories as a non event that didn’t happen.
At its heart this is what underpins the entire “Good die young” ethos as the demons seemingly run amuck with no fear of consequence for their outright devilishness.
“How many versions of me are left?“. I’m wondering. Just last night I saw another killed and he was so happy going out as he did because anything was better than the pain of suffering from the existence he’d been living in ignorance of the shadows depth. Are these other mes as conscious, as alive? I really do think about this. Do their deaths only come to light as I trace the pain inside and see through their eyes? In effect that would mean that me, in my quest for liberation, is killing them whilst blaming another for the stage that was set via commands poured into my head using hypnosis, drugs and sex magick. That would be so ironic. So perfect as well. “Firing a pistol from anothers hand” is what we called it when you amp someone else to damage the flesh of one you harbor ill will against because you get the job done with no prints on the weapon or expense. No wonder they like their little accoutrements, it all speaks in symbol. If that is the case then, like Schroedingers kitty, they were both alive and dead (ie existing as potential) till I checked at which point it became definitive and reality collapsed in on itself to generate the wavelength of consciousness I’m currently sitting in as I share this message.
You don’t have to be an adept of the inner realms, walk the Path of Power or even place one iota of attention in making this happen. Dreams are often gateways to other realms. Suddenly all those times you felt certain and solid behind closed eyelids about a life you were but also were not actually living makes sense, yes? As do all of those deaths that leave you sweaty and screaming as they seem so believable as you check your flesh in bed to ensure you’re not leaking. Multi-dimensional murder they wrote. Its surprisingly common. After all, who hasn’t ever a realized life impulses that came from a dreaming vision and thus the inner realm can generate an outer consequence you are free to accept, reject or watch manifest in ignorance of the true sketch? Its akin to pruning the limbs off a living Bonsai tree in the flesh. That really describes it well because that small thing of stunted potential actually packs within the template of mightiness that is its natural birthright and true free expression before being moulded to the intent of one skilled in the arts of binding.
You are multi-dimensional. An immortal. Just visiting this realm.
I think, on some level, we all feel this. Very few people speak on it and lesser still in a way that is cogent and able to bypass the coping mechs in the readers head that exist solely to deny this facet of existence because it isn’t repeated in sacred texts, preached from the pulpit or stamped with the approval of the educational system. All of these are mere limbs to that which makes beasts out of men. To me it feels exceedingly personal and the level of pain is immense, once you allow it access to your Adulterated consciousness which goes out of its way to pretend none of this is happening as its prime drive is “Toward pleasure, away from pain“.
They say no man is an island but when you see an alcoholic (or other addict) setting off bombs with a relish that deplete that which sustains him you shake your head, call him an idiot and think he’s reckless. “After all, if he wins this war he is waging he’ll be homeless, floating and then dead. How stupid!” says one watching. And yet, we all do this, in some way, shape or fashion. For the junkie who needs a fix to handle the business of living its quite simple. “There is a demon hidden under these sands. Life really is a beach and it keeps using its spears and tridents to jab the soles of my feet when walking and anything else it can get. Do you see? Do you see? The bombs are my way of killing it. I haven’t quite made a dent yet but its not for lack of trying” he said as we surveyed the potholes that littered his island of ignorance and the small streams that were formed within from years of Self Destruction. “But I’m getting there, I’m confident I’ll get him and then it will finally be plain sailing”.
As you see, to him its a valid solution to the cards life chose to deal. Imagine the beach as your mind, the devil what hides within your subconsciousness and the one walking along doing that and this is the state I call the Witness as it makes it all possible by being there and is generally as unaware of how powerful it truly is. Some people rake the sands without a clue of whats under the surface. The next thing will be taking that same silicon and compressing it into a thin layer used for modulation. In effect that will liberate the Opponent from his underground position as he’ll now interface directly with your awareness and never will he tell the Witness whats truly happened as they’ll be swept away on their own trip that has no off switch or exit labelled. Thats pretty wild. “All hail the transhumans” is what will be said and anyone against is, of course, worse than Hitler himself. Don’t believe. You’ll see when it happens. Or maybe not due to your soon to be augmented consciousness.
Its not the end of the world… But you can see it from here.
“Hell is other people” somebody once said. Well, here comes the remix because hell is actually knowing you are the only one in the realm and spend your entire existence interacting with aspects of Self you are busy projecting onto the landscape. This is true of everyone in the Game and the irony of this is amazing. Its also quite liberating and becomes Self evident when you ponder on the fact that you can meet someone, totally detest them and consider their existence an affront to all that is decent and worth protecting and your friend can look at them as an idol, the best you can get and a shining example of how life should be lived and one conduct themselves. Are there three people there or simple one awareness that projects its own illusion then buys in to the resulting effects as proof that its Thunking was correct? What if reality truly is a collective hallucination? Babies brains don’t just hint but flat out say this is whats happening and after we get used to the trip the brain shifts into a state which is identical to hypnosis thus people are literally entranced into a living a life that was penned by anything but them. That is pretty wild, isn’t it? Pondered at length then the existential crisis thing happens and this is why a framework, a method, some guidance (that I call the Path of Power) is essential because otherwise that way madness lies as we get whats truly happening and the mind rebels at the horrifying truth that was presented to your senses but then subtly rejected as not being possible. A lot of mass media and the rest exists to scratch this subconscious itch and prevent the realization. Now the success of sales of a boy wizard casting spells being beaten only by the tales of a man divine that flipped tables, performed miracles and called those writing the script wicked makes a lot more sense, yes?
Lets pour one out for the me I could’ve been, should’ve been, might’ve been as well as the ultimate version of Self I’m becoming as you grace this text with your awareness. What if they’re doing me a solid and pruning the excess I didn’t need in order to further harness more clarity across all layers of reality and I’ve actually got it backwards? What if that which I’m decoding as a hand signal of threat is actually extended in friendship instead with the intent to help lift me from the abyss? This is the main difference between me and 81% of the planet because I’m willing to admit and think that my way of considering may be entirely incorrect and thus its a process of constant refinement where I chip away at the ignorance, ditch what doesn’t and keep what works which is why I said its akin to completing a jigsaw in the darkness via flashes and hints of higher conscious that afford a glimpse of the whole thing in increments which then rearranges my presence at this moment into a greater state of coherence as I enlighten the Three Kingdoms within via Knowing the Ledge.
Its one hell of a heavenly trip, let me tell, as I fine tune my resonance in order to make that Inner Sense illumination a universal constant whilst I Center in Self by removing the Adulteration and events programmed in by the System. In many ways its a truth we must all face once we crave the taste of liberation beyond the flesh and ascend but for the rest, plugged in, there are plenty of bread and circuses even though they’re gluten intolerant and the clowns remind them of the DMT machine elves that led their Soul into this realm to play the Game that holds them, right now, within its grip and refuses to relent because, get this, they Thunk they’re the voice in their heads…
Some things you must kill in order to truly live. Can you hear the Psylense? Get rid of the noiZ and you’ll spot what its been obscuring as you up your res and, who knows, maybe you’ll correlate my perspect about the multi-dimensional murder thing because whilst each version of me may splash their own ink upon the canvas that underpins every life it is, in and of its Self, identical, eternal and unchanging as it is of Prime resonance with the all of everything.
I am that. You as well. Know the Ledge. Its worth the investment in discernment as the dividends are immense.
Till we meet again
