Lets pretend you’re the only Soul in this realm. Actually, you don’t really have to imagine that well because its not far from the truth. Have you pondered, at depth, how one man can meet ten and they all draw differing opinions of him? Well, I have. Repeatedly. One of the most interesting conclusions from this imperiment was how it became Self evident that we hate those who display the exact characteristics we cherish as part of our own wavelength. Isn’t that fascinating? I think it is as, once upon a when, a friend noticed someone leaving my premises as he strolled in and said, without a trace of irony presented:
“Why are you speaking to him? He’s nothing but a flash prick who thinks about no one but him“.
The chap in question was what most would term “arrogant” but he, himself, commented:
“I’ve got the skills to back up my flex so its simply the truth said, isn’t it? If they don’t like it, thats their problem as I’m too busy clocking wins”.
Like I said, ironic as the other gent possessed a nigh on identical wavelength. You are welcome to test this. Just think of someone you met and, instantly, detested. For some the beef is eternal. Others become friends when you discover you have so much in common. This is down to what I’ve termed Octaves as we are naught but stories wearing flesh and that, itself, is a hint about this immense Game we play using our Souls as credits as we’re literally poetry in motion who, once upon a when, used to dance and sing before the System did its thing with two decades of legally mandated brainwashing that said “Sit still, look ahead. Do well on the test or your parents will stress” and other such programming.
When COVID kicked can you recollect how you met this wavelength that was saturating the planet with its invisible influence? I do, real well, and spoke about it a bit in this article but lets go in depth:
I rose, stretched, read, pushed then pen and then, around twelve, I clicked that life was simply too quiet around the ends as the usual hustle and bustle was missing. I looked out, beyond the windowsill and was greeted by birds making a din. “Hmm, thats unusual” methinks as I looked around the pavements and saw they were deserted. The shops were closed and there were no vehicles. An immense smile crept across my lips and my brain started processing these events to find a narrative that could fit. I Am Legend popped into my mindset as I said:
“No way! I’m the last man left on the planet? Everyone else is either dead or has vanished. Cool!”.
I leapt down the steps with my anticipation building like a million kids awaiting a billion gifts that jolly old Saint Nick (aka the Devil in a new dress) promised them in exchange for their veneration. Actually, lets expound on this, yes? For a large chunk of my childhood, if not all, I never got those shiny toys and trinkets promised by one who, for some reason, could not manifest via the front entrance. Not to say I was impoverished but you don’t miss what you never get, correct? When I discovered the whole thing and how kids believed in this bit I found it ridiculous and questioned their logic and investment as well as the nature of their parents who sell deceptions to them in exchange for temporary grins. As time progressed I built onto this hypothesis and let me share something that should make you think about the stranger bearing gifts:
Both he and the Devil are linked with the name Saint Nick. People accept this without question but the Warrior prefers depth over surface level ignorance that hides truths, unmentioned. Both can’t use the front door and must gain other access. Both are linked with hooves, cloven. Both promise material riches in exchange for an investment in their presence as one who shares his bounties with them and both live in places intemperate. Sprinkle in the color red, the power of flight, being in many places in one instance and you have to wonder:
If he’s calling you a ho, triplicate, then doesn’t that make him a pimp, par excellence? To me it made perfect sense or are these the coping mechs of a jit that never got any gifts but plenty of ass whuppings for not following the regulations? I’ll let you tell it. Anyway, so I’m barreling down the steps with, what I guess, must be the anticipation of said jits and, with eyes big, I strolled along the pavements taking in the new wavelength. The Earth seemed to agree with me as it felt like it was sighing with relief at the ease of an immense burden that seemed intent on killing it. It wasn’t the night before Christmas but there was not a Soul to be seen in this realm and my grin was threatening to crack my countenance as it spread across my lips. Eventually I found what kicked and this is one the best examples of why I’ve said watching the news is bad for your health as I ignored all that mess, saw through the camera tricks and, a few months hence, noticed people were ambling along the streets with a hollowed out look on their dish that I’d only seen in the Hitler documentaries, mentioned elsewhen. They could not comprehend why I felt so spry and vivid. I spent that time getting into the best shape I’d ever been and felt so amazing, thanks to the isolation, as the beach was all mine as was any other place I’d pick. Sure, a few scowled at me not wearing a mask or following the regs but I did have one interesting conversation on the topic of sanitation with a woman who asked me my secret for shining bright in the darkness:
“You’ve know me for quite a while, yes?”. She nodded her head behind a mask, paper thin, whilst wearing gloves seen in kitchens or theaters or operation as she stood quite a distance. “Well, the secret is based on an old imperiment I did as I clicked that when one gets a cold or sniffles you can always spot it coming via the tingles that manifest, first, in ears or neck, correct?”. She, once again, nodded her assent. “The truth of the matter is that when this kicks I instantly reach for some hydrogen peroxide, three percent, and gargle with it then place a few drops in my ears as well. I strongly suspect thats the main point of entrance for bacteria, viruses and such things. By doing this form of disinfection when the threat is basic I remain in great health”. She took it in and, being of good intelligence, said:
“That makes a load of sense but this is different. Its highly virulent and can kill in an instant. You should be more careful”. I relayed the example of the first atomic bomb testers being handed sunglasses with a cheery “These will protect”. She started laughing. I congratulated as I mentioned that grins boost the immune system whereas stress depresses it. A light bulb hit within and, seeing as I had her ignorance on the ropes, I unleashed a beautiful combination with:
“Thats about as much use as your cheap Chinese mask filled with who knows what chemicals is. Matter of fact, its probably more dangerous as it acts like a dragnet that captures all kinds of bad things and then provides them with a breeding environment right next to where they’d gain access so, if I were tinfoiling, I’d say this whole thing is one percent truth, ninety nine percent fiction and most problems that manifest are people doing it to themselves out of ignorance by following what they said. Not to mention that the constant hand sanitizing and OCD level cleanness prevent the build up of resistance by good bacteria and such things that are needed for your immune system to function well”.
She had a straight line in Tetris moment. Right there, on the pavement. When next we met she was facially naked and feeling safely content and, wouldn’t you know it, since then she has had approximately zero sniffles. Even when colds were raging. Whilst we were intensely different I found a common resonance that spoke to the doubts she had, lingering, but daren’t address as the screen said it was comply or death. Me? I don’t have those problems. Me? I don’t give an F about what any so called authority outside of Self has to say about anything and seeing as I started that trip with a rising wavelength it wasn’t about to relent due to some regulation Nazi attempting to do their bit with the “I’m just following orders” mindset. We all know what you get from doing this, yes? Man, that was an immense tangent so lets get back to the thread instead:
You are the only Soul in this realm. Meaning, all you deal with are figments of your imagination with whom you have various debts and credits from previous incarnations. How can I say this with such brazen confidence? Simple, my friends conspired to kill me dead and, as I’d later recollect, we knew each other, real well, on another spin and the rest of my family were also in the clique with same intent. To them I owe immense thanks because A) they kept my last life on this planet interesting, B) they proved that death is an illusion and C) they gifted me the need to develop such resources that allow me to share thoughts like this on the web. Slave/Masters, I thank thee! This is the Win or Learn mindset in full effect ergo you too can flip the script and pull out any bones of contention that prevent optimal digestion of the banquet life presents but only if you comprehend and reality test what I’ve said. Here is how to do it:
Grab a pad and pen. Note down three you detest and the same you call friends. Check their skills, impressions and what kicks then find the correlate in Self. Most we label best actually possess something we also cherish but, often, haven’t developed within which is what makes their resonance so attractive. Some, if you’re lucky, may bring this out of you. You need to skip past the basics like:
“We went to the same schools as kids and like the same things” rhetoric and truly dig. Like the flashy arrogant kid who hated the same resonance manifest in another playa in this realm as it threatened his sense of individuation. When I pointed this out to him he fairly yelled:
“I’m nothing like him. Nothing. Its like you don’t know who I am or can’t recognize greatness in your presence? He’s a fake, a phony who pretends. I’m the real thing. An original with no duplicate”.
I asked him to take a break from the stims for a month or six then tell me how he felt as I mentioned that his nemesis was also fond of amphetamines as well and he, like him, was a fat kid, back when, before he started lifting, hustling and cracking skulls to make a name for himself on the pavement. The ears of ignorance are stone deaf to whatever the lips of wisdom done said and thus he shook his head then mentioned:
“Nope. Never in a million. Whats that got to do within anything anyway?”.
The more I sat and reflected I realized these two were nigh on identical in so many respects ranging from story to lineage as well as musical tastes and innate gifts to getting paid. Even down to the women they would pick as this was one of their main bones of contention as they’d often hit the same targets. One must recollect that, back when, the only place that played “Urban” music was a dingy spot in the bricks that picked a night, usually dead, to have their club filled to the gills with pavement terrorists who sang, chapter and verse, from the scriptures etched by Saint Makaveli to his congregation of thugs, delinquent. As you can probably guess that meant you ran into the same people, as and when, plus the females were rotated ergo things would be smooth as silk as we all popped drinks and linked till it got to around twelve and you’d hear:
“Hence why I fornicated with your belxved, you obese scoundrel!” come thundering across the PA system and then it was on like Donkey Kong as the monkeys were humbled, real quick, and barrels did tumble whilst the hammer clicked as someone got tapped in the head and leaked their blood onto the pavement. Then on the night went with its regularly scheduled resonance. Ah! Fun times before CCTV and DNA tests, I tell. Clubbing, back when, was like the Wild West as anyone who was around before camera phones and bottle service will attest because everyone was out to F something and if that didn’t kick they’d just F someone else up instead. Either way, they’d find someone to oblige them… Lets pretend we were like Bonobos who settle all of their problems with sex. People would be signing up to go to war with the biggest orgy, imaginable. I wouldn’t mind living in a world like this as those people would certainly get they’re dealing with figments of their imagination as a good orgasm, between Souls of resonance, make this Self evident hence why the ancient Vedics promoted sex as a spiritual aspect for generating gnosis. That was quickly flipped into the white mans “Born in sin” concept as entire generations lived and died thinking a magical man in the clouds was noting each time they’d caress the magic stick and eject a whole load of potential life into a Kleenex thanks to the sexual ministrations of flesh actors on their set. Another crazy tangent so lets rap this up real quick:
What you hate in another is something you, your Self, do as well. Pay heed to this, the dividends can be immense. Whoever makes you mad is your Master in this realm as you’re saying, tacitly, that you cannot control your response in their presence ergo you are a Slave to their resonance. Third, there are no enemies, only teachers, my friend as they shine a bright light on your ignorance which is, usually, delicate. Take a look within. Know the Ledge and see what kicks as you may come out the other end sporting a greater wavelength of resonance as you quell the internal conflict so the external, otherwise eternal, is killed dead and, instead, a sense of solidarity doth present. This is worth keeping in mind if the red heifer loses its head as they erect a new temple after spilling the blood of infidels. Its also worth noting that what the masses hold true, the simulation brings into view so if enough of us think different we can, quite literally, flip the script. But, that isn’t the real point of this level as its all about aggression and dominance hence why pimps, politicians and preachers are the same thing and, in the end, who am I to speak on this being a street educated jit with no credentials to furnish but, then again, maybe thats why I’m perfectly prepped to present another perspect because, like Vincent said:
Too many people live for others expectations and wonder why their lives don’t manifest as they intend. Why? Because the System did a number on their heads and programmed them, real well, to accept bread and circuses instead of the real traction that comes from effort. Don’t you think its strange how we get no true life lessons in the legally mandated camps of concentration where your parents sent your mind, whilst developing, and yet movies are laced with depth that tell it how it truly is? Art is a lie that tells the truth, my friend. Warriors innerstand backwords to see forewards. Thats just how it is when you comprehend you are the only Soul in this realm.
Till we meet again
