I’m quite sure you’ve heard how beauty is only skin deep, yes? Whoever penned that axiom obviously didn’t envision the Instagram generation who’d filter their pics to death in the quest for perfection as walls warped to make rear ends more buxom and breasts, voluptuous. Actually, this isn’t the topic but I was reading online about how there are apps that will take your basic image and then “perfect” it by doing all types of camera tricks. I tried one, at its incep, and thought it was an odd effect that made my skin look like porcelain whilst my eyes were dazzling. Granted this was a long time ago and the recent tech apparently looks a lot more fluid and human but, man, what a mind F. I don’t know if you’ve ever watched Red Dwarf but there was an episode in which Rimmer, commensurate failure, par excellence, met a parallel version of himself that was all he ever imagined and then some. He hated him, intensely. They, of course, made him look much more attractive with a becoming manner and swagger whilst also being self effacingly gregarious so those around him adored his presence whilst the standard version was generally detested and rejected. Even by the robotic help. “Ouch” must have went the fabricated inner realms of this caricature of a person. And yet, that is exactly whats happening at the present, isn’t it? People get to meet their ultimate version and then, if they can afford it, get the surgery to mimic it. Let me let you into a little secret:
The confidence is only skin deep as the upgraded you with bolt ons and implants doesn’t possess the same Inner Sense from back when that comes with its constant reinforcement that you are special because you’re attractive. Its quite an interesting thing as that in built confidence is what actually draws most people in, beyond the visage which is ironic as its the dish that got them the mindset so the machine of perpetual perfection doth spin. Science isn’t at the point yet where they can upgrade your internal OS, with a click, but I’d be willing to bet that if we took two potential versions of a looksmaxer and left one, unfiltered, but with a pimped out head that Knew (capital K) they were the best and ultimate versus the one who was still invested in the narrative of seeing imperfection being reflected but was now nipped, tucked, trimmed and re-presented the former would have way more success with the opposite sex, happiness and sense of contentment. I say all of that to say its not who they are outside but what is within for yours is the Kingdom, my friend. Its all about being comfortable in your skin, coherent and resonant which nearly nobody is at present as the web has done a number on their head. As intended. By the way, that has absolutely nothing to do with the main topic as that is of a whole nother intent so consider that a pre-tangent to the main quest:
I recently discovered that nearly my whole lineage are adepts of a black magick thing and, of this, I was entirely ignorant. It feels like I’ve manifested into a Philip K Dick script in which some kind of strange, dual reality based experiment is being conducted with a live specimen who doesn’t fully comprehend what is happening as a shadowy team behind a smoky curtain pull all types of strings. On some level I suspected this, back when, but always pushed the thought out of my head and back into my chest as I numbed my Self with the finest distractions a man can get. I mean, its hard enough living in this world but doing it dolo whilst strapped with this gnosis is pretty much asking for a one way ticket to the insane asylum, isn’t it? Oddly, every schizo I’ve met, ever, also had a strained relationship with one or both parents and its usually the maternal aspect that presented the greatest problem that led to their later fracturing awareness producing all types of hallucinations which I know see are totally accurate and well within reason of what truly kicks. Hence no due process, appeal to a rep or anything else beyond a depot injection in the rear end and or a padded cell if they won’t accept the script. I, thankfully, avoided this misstep thanks, in part, to the many conversations we had as, lucid or tripping, I was always me to them which, for someone set adrift in a world ever changing, was like meeting gods gift ergo they spoke, freely, without fear of judgement and listened to what I said as I encouraged them to feel around in this state of expanded awareness whilst discounting their vision as it was obviously that aspect that was being pimped. Did you know these so called mad men do not fall for optical illusions that have the rest of the world, entranced? Read that back again and link it with what I said, off rip, as you do the Knowledge.
Now, these events got a young jit pondering as I wanted to know what made me so special that the local lunatics flocked to me by the bakers dozen and couldn’t wait to share their insights which were perfectly cogent and, invariably, consistent across many contestants. That part I found really fascinating because they all said, to a man, that some invisible presence was tampering with their consciousness and pimping their mind which was something I was also quite familiar with. Later I would discover this is what SRA does best so does that mean the intent at the helm of this realm is nothing less than wicked? If so it makes sense why another force keeps sending prophets that are killed stone dead, yes? It also ticks a box of why so many schizos claim to be Jesus or a Soul on a divine mission that is beset by the tyrannies of evil men and the principalities that fuel them. Forewarned is forearmed and thus my spiritual ducks bills were popping like he who guzzles spinach when life presented its bill and whipped the deception it had built from my eyelids as my reaction was quite different to the standard. My immense gratitude to all of those who made this possible, on both sides of the fence, as its what built the mindset I’m about to share with the web:
Its not who they are outside your consciousness but what they rep within via the fields of resonance that makes all of the difference. This applies to straight heads as well because haven’t you ever suspected how odd it is that you can show one man to ten people and they all draw their own opinions? Some would say he’s arrogant, others call him a condescending prick who thinks he’s gods gift whilst others are totally enamored and hang on each word that drips as some listen with amusement and a few can’t wait to call him their best friend. I always found that fascinating and, once upon a when, I asked a friend on the playground what would kick if I scooped all of the inner resonance of his closest compatriot and placed them inside the form of one he detested. He, of course, looked at me like I’d flipped my lid and said:
You’re a weird guy you know that?
I don’t doubt it and now is that time ten to the power of infinitum, I guess. To me that blip is probably what made the difference between a breakdown and breakthrough as the thing with trauma, timelines and trance is the mid is invisible to the well adjusted so the latter is impossible to comprehend whilst within as its akin to a dream like consciousness whereas the former is the rude awakening that, in my case, dented my (false) self via the use of magical spells of incantations mixed with drugs and sex magick. Thankfully, by the time this kicked, I was no stranger to Self as I’d spent decades introspecting as a lot of the resonance between me and these so called madmen was what the establishment calls paranoia but I prefer to term as full spectrum thinking. After all, you can’t be on a skitz if they truly are out to get and what proves this, perfect, then telling someone who medicates you against your will with no due process or ability to appeal what they can only test via observation that issues a damning stamp and label before filling your rear end with depot injections and as many pills as you can handle? There was an interesting experiment in which students of a psychological bent were sent into said establishments and reported a very benign form of hallucination that bore very little significance with anything beyond a sound that occasionally repeated in their heads. They were placed under observation, intense, as they went around doing what they did best. Bare in mind, these people were not crazy nor were they acting a script for television sets. And yet every single action was interpreted via the lens of they’re as nutty as one can get by these so called professionals who took the journaling of one student as “excessive rumination” and another who protested her innocence that nothing was wrong an it was all an experiment as proof positive of a paranoid mindset that was attempting to Game the system to gain her freedom. Even when the professor stepped in to reclaim his charges they faced an uphill battle where the “pros” refused to relent. So strong was their paradigm and that really, really got me thinking when I first read of this experiment. Oh, for sure, it was pooh poohed by academics who said it bore an intense stench and wasn’t compliant with the scientific method but, when shared with those who actually lived the lyrics, they all nodded their head and said:
“Thats exactly how it is. If you complain, they up the meds. If you try and reign it in they call you a suppressive and, guess what, up your meds until you’re drooling on yourself and incapable of anything. Its a conspiracy!” they all said. As you can guess such comments would get them an increased dosage and if they resisted a swift beating as well. You’d be surprised to learn how many took advantage of those with such fragile mental health which, no doubt, affirmed their mindset that these were demons dressed in flesh or not entirely human as they wasn’t a shred of the humane about them. Once again, wild tangent but its all interlinked as I pondered how one should never trust an atom as they make up everything and, in the end, the only logical conclusion is we’re interacting with figments of our imagination using varying degrees of trance in which certain things are accepted and expected whilst others are verboten to be expressed in the presence of those well adjusted to such immense social sickness. That was like a straight line in Tetris moment and thus came an imperiment in which, like shades of playground – but pimped, picked someone I generally detested and then spent more time trying to see the best in them instead of silently uttering, in my head, “There goes that fool again. I hope he slips on a banana peel. That would be amusing” as I built the image using imagination. What I chose was the flip of this reflex as I thought “Oh look, there goes that fine gent whose clothes are always so neatly pressed and it seems he’s polished his shoes with extra intent today as they’re positively shining”. At first it felt so forced, fake and inauthentic but, in the name of science, I continued and, after a month or so, it became entirely natural and done without effort as I’d note his presence with either a positive or no comment. Interestingly so his behavior toward me started shifting as he volunteered to help for certain bits and stopped doing things I thought were irritating.
This, as you can imagine, was super interesting and almost lead to a megalomaniacal head trip that would have made the manic depressive section that dropped in feel an immense resonant sync as well as the schizos who felt identical but couldn’t quite express the sentiment as many thought the process was flipped. Did you know that one of the most common open secrets in the field of mental health is that those dealing with these patients will always have an interesting story to tell in which the madman picks up a thread from their private narrative like he has access to information that isn’t present? It could be something as subtle as restating a line from an argument they had with an ex they were begging to come see them last night after a bout of drunk dialing to offset their intense loneliness down to a detailed description of what they ate for breakfast that AM. Ask them, they’ll all tell the same tale and, yet again, no so called scientist thinks this is of interest. Well, I do and did because whilst lemonade was once a popular drink (and still is) its what goes into this magical mix that gets me thinking. Try this:
Can you imagine, just for a moment, you’ve walked into your kitchen. Lying there, on the counter, is a fresh, ripe lemon. The skin is a vivid shade of yellow and its a mighty fine specimen. Pretend you’ve picked it up and are squeezing it between your fingers. Your nose catches a mild whiff of the crisp, citric scent. You pick up a knife and slice into it. As the sharp blade cuts through the lemon you may notice the aroma starts to get more intense as little droplets spray, that way and this. You carve off a thin segment and decide to raise it to your lips. The closer it comes the more of your senses are activated and just before you bite in I’d like you to check whats actually happening, at this very moment. Is your mouth salivating? That, my friend, is the power of imagination and why I said the brain can’t tell any different between something you pretend as well as an event actual as it preps the same, regardless. That is a very powerful realization because you’ll start to comprehend that this applies across every single medium, interaction or suggestion that pours in from this realm because whilst this thought imperiment we’ve just conducted used a few simple sentences that you read what of the life time of conditioning you’ve felt and pours in, without relenting, from this realm that vies for your attention with every passing moment? How many of those concepts are actually sketched with your best interests at heart? Not many, I’d bet.
This is akin to seeing the code of Matrix and best believe the architect has his Agents on deck and thus the flying monkeys are sent to prevent the effect of this gnosis spreading to the rest as it could slip them out of the trance and reality tunnel they didn’t know they’d been trained to dig. Fascinating, isn’t it? Well, I think it is. Do you? Think, that is? Most accept Thunk and its the off brand equivalent that generates pre thought chunks of thought in your head that you’re “free” to rearrange as you wish but always end up generating outcomes, predictable. You know where that road leads, Neo. Schizos, on the other hand walk along crazy paving that seems to obey no rules regulations hence “Quick, to the mental asylum!” is the song the pros sing whilst being entirely unaware of the part they’re playing in their own suppression. As. I said, earth shattering implications, yes? Well, they would be if that voice in your head wasn’t actively rejecting the hypothesis by making you feel uncomfortable in your skin by what is said and then projecting that stress onto these words which is not that different from the modern paper thin skin gen saying they’re feeling “triggered” by someone when, in reality, its their poor management of their energetics that should be called into question… This will never happen as the System encourages your near total dependence on it and will encourage this type of weakness as a strength. Orwell would be proud whilst Huxley is citing someone tripping the light fantastic in resonance with the schizos who picked the locks on the doors of perception that the mystics kicked off the hinges. Some screamed this from the top of the hills as the passion overflowed from them. Others kept it quiet and a few used the Knowledge to control the rest and insisted folks take their meds for even suggesting something so ridiculous.
What a strange world in which we live, yes? Is it, as I suspect, a realm that the inmates revolted in, back when, and took over the asylum then normalized groupthink so any who color in outside lines preset must be sedated and medicated against their will because they’re obviously incorrect and a threat to the Matrix? Doesn’t that make perfect sense as to why another Prime, pre-existing force that is the source of everywhen keeps sending prophets with a message that says, more or less, “The Game of Souls has you, my friend”. There go the shades of being megalomaniac again! But then, that perspect simply came from the condensed imperience, imperiments and introspection that were detailed in this text as well as countless interactions with those on both sides of the fence and countless other interested bystanders who just happened to drop in, tune up and listen as I kicked the ballistics on my latest hypothesis which, as always, was a strong opinion, loosely held. That, interestingly enough, is something common between both the in and outsane as they have an intense grip of what they Thunk it is whereas the mystic, poet and shaman are far more elastic with it and thus freer to bend than snap in the face of such overwhelming ignorance of what truly kicks in this realm. Is it a fools errand to attempt to awaken a nation, sleepwalking, who believe they are not somnambulating but totally cogent? To them you would be the madman whereas, to thee, the truth is Self evident. That is why I’ve said, time and again, this world prefers elegant deceptions to the genuine article as its easier to fool someone than convince them they’ve been tricked. All roads lead to the architect!
Three K words later and I still haven’t got to the main message I started with after the initial tangent…
I recently discovered that nearly my whole lineage are adepts of a black magick thing. Those who aren’t are long dead and thus I’m cut from a cloth they no longer create in this realm and that, evidently, makes me a major threat as I remind you of the things you were made to forget but this I couldn’t have done without them ergo the Win or Learn mindset gets one to a place of consciousness which is beyond good and evil and this, interestingly, is mentioned in ancient spiritual texts written by adepts that posit two birds sitting in the selfsame tree called reality. One eats the sweet and sour fruits of life whilst the other looks on, dispassionately. Ain’t that something? The bit I find fascinating is how they predicted, to a tee, the world we’re living in. Dig:
“When thieves are kings and so called religious men diddle little kids and the next generation is RIP before they even begin as the age of darkness is present and man is ignorant of the true scheme of things and the immense power trapped within”.
Pretty amazing for an old text, yes? I’m paraphrasing but one must comprehend that before they pushed the pen it was an oral tradition for gen and that, itself, is a huge topic due to the hemispheric implications of a bicameral consciousness and the vastly differing worlds they beget. For example, if you ask most in this realm what pops in their head when god is mentioned they get an angry White man yelling at them from a cloud, overhead, yes? And yet if we spin back the clock to a point distant it was the friendly and curvy countenance of a Black woman, nurturing, with ample bosom and hips. It is, quite literally, a mind Game of epic proportions thats built on the Yan and Ying which is the same as the One and Zero that powers the tech you’re using to read this as well as your own bioelectrical circuits as well as the forthcoming sex robot revolution. What? You didn’t click you’d been trained to “turn on” your forthcoming friend made of silicon via the stealthy use of symbols and influence for generations:
If you study the past then predicting the future is a cinch and its even more simplistic if you stay two steps ahead and create a false narrative in the heads of those plugged in as the true explication of power is being able to define something and have others accept it, no question, as they start to live your lyrics and Thunk they pushed the pen. Did you know there once was a time when man didn’t have a voice in his head? Mix that in with the fact that we may have sang and danced as opposed to walking and talking then sprinkle on a bit of what I mentioned about the angry cloud yell and the happy nurturing and you’ll see its all saying the same thing about these seasons of consciousness in this immense Game we’re playing using our Souls as credits. I mean, can you imagine being one of those flash frozen mammoths that are chilling in the arctic at present? At one time the weather was fresh and clement and you’re just doing your thing and next the heat dips and you’re left wondering what the hell just happened. But nope, slow and steady is what they say or maybe they just push this narrative so many die when the end times kick and they hide underground or up a hill then descend on the rest as gods among men. Say, you don’t think that could’ve happened before, do you? Wouldn’t that be something? Certainly would answer a lot of questions, wouldn’t it? And, once again, we didn’t even touch the main thread that runs red and runs through the timestream of this floating insane asylum of the abyss so I’ll sprinkle a brief hint and take that as a cue to make a vid instead as I tend to wax lyrical when pushing the pen as opposed to going direct with audio visuals:
I didn’t get mad at the rollercoaster. Meaning there is no point gnashing and wailing at my fam for doing what they did or anyone else as none of them exist without my consciousness to encode and decode their presence ergo they are simply outer barometers pointing at internal temps that have their own vibrant resonance which serves as a cue and clue for me to trace inside my awareness via a process I’ve termed doing the Knowledge as each step increases my resolution and brings into stark relief a world that is actually way more magical and interesting than most would ever allow themselves to suspect as the voice in the head says “Gobbledygook, navel gazing BS. I mean, those immense run on sentence are a tell he’s selling nothing but word salad. I don’t believe a bit of it” and by that he means you, the one listening, shouldn’t. And you know what? 81% will nod their head and do just this as they can’t find a chunk of Thunk that fits the outlined description but that isn’t the saddest bit. The worst part is they never even stopped to reflect that they cannot be the voice that sounds just like them when they are actually that which is listening and this, my friend, is what the schizo, poet and mystic did with varying degrees of success as some frogs stretched their legs of higher consciousness and leapt from the hells kitchen – much to the chagrin of the chef – whilst others simply ended up in the fire from the pot of water, boiling, which the rest accept without questioning. Oh, and to tie it all with a nice bow and string which shows I’m not actually rambling on tangents but decoding then encoding a larger fractal at a higher res via this text:
Have you ever noticed how you don’t actually Thunk you sound correct on a recording compared to the silkier and smoother tones that manifest inside your head that you accept as an accurate rep of your true resonance? Ponder this, not even at depth, and you’ll find the antecedent of the Instagram gen and their adventures in editing which all points to larger intent, coherent, that is unfolding a false reality as the real thing to a people plugged in and yet totally ignorant of not only the grand scale of the deception but their own powers of consciousness. And with that it’s said:
The Game of Souls has you, my friend.
Till we meet again
