They say that with steps, six, you can link whoever you wish in this realm where we dwell via the miracle of flesh wrapped around unfinite sentience. I don’t know about this but of one thing I’m quite certain:
If you examine, at depth, the things you really like and invest in with more than a modicum of emotion you may just discover quite an intense resonance that makes one really wonder what kicks. This one is so telling that I cannot even provide links to make you think. Besides, it would be akin to communicating a dream as it seems intense to thee and a non sequitur to the rest. How can this be? Simple:
Consciousness, and its primacy.
There is a very weird set of feels when one scrapes the walls of their tunnel visioned reality as its akin to a kaleidoscope of consciousness doing just this as the granules of multicolored awareness get ground into a superfine mist that seem akin to a philosopher pigeon wondering why his vision mists as he contemplates the ills of life and its relationships in which the ones we know best often make us feel the most intense sensations whilst he ponders his inheritance of boldness and a lack of satisfaction with what presents. I guess that bread must’ve had some ergot, developed, eh? Just like the time the CIA, allegedly, poisoned a small town, back when, and folks flipped their lids and started to trip without a clue of what kicked. Say, that must be pretty similar to the inner realms of a schizo, yes? See why I said I couldn’t detail the links, my friend? That is why as it would seem like a whole load of world salad with the most spurious of connections. I’ll have to animate it instead as there is a pretty slick way to convey the linkage as its just like a midget casting a great shadow that obscures everything else and then, within this realm, he lets the light he obscured shine in and declared himself a “god” for what he done did.
See how you get the pic of what was meant without me saying it? Kind of like this:
Pretty wild, isn’t it? Thats why you’ll need to flex your insight, my friend, and draw your own conclusions. Some pointers to help:
Consider everything. And I mean every thing. Like down to name meanings, colorways, thematic preferences as well as the reasons for doing what they did, their own inspirations and various celestial arrangements shall pitch in with their own pinch of fairy dust effect that made one say:
“What the F? How are they all bits of me reflecting back chunks of my future history in abstracted ways that seem laden with significance like the secret truth of the universe is being mainlined at present?”.
Warning. There are dangers to deprogramming and this be one of it as its so easy to sink and forget that one can swim, really well, in the ever refining seas of higher consciousness. Its like what I said, back when, about a man driving around Jupiter using an earthbound GPS instead of his felt sense of the presence which says when to hang a left and reverse a rite to bring the best from the trip. Sometimes one must be willing to let go and then grin as they gain everything in a spin of pitch and toss with the common man when the blood of a noble flows within. There is what shines and what we reflect in the Valley of the Plebs, my friend.
This is probably one of my most abstract creations and yet, paradoxically, its one of the most significant as I usually provide a concrete “X is Y but manspread whilst the other is more feminine ergo masculine is daring whilst intuition wears a pair of tits“. Even that contains some hidden gems because what if you could break down an entire alphabet into pieces of Saturn that were flipped and chipped to unleash all types of spells and rituals upon the constituents that fill the place I mentioned except they were born giants who’d been trained, instead, to kneel at the feet of midgets. Wouldn’t that be a trip, my friend? Back pain would be endemic and yet the scientists would be “Baffled as to what causes it”. Kind of like how I predict that in a few decades and counting a whole load of long term depressives will off their on switch and the medics, once again, will not have a clue what kicks until some bright spark invents a new pill that makes big problems small and we trundle off again.
Thats life in the mid of the reality tunnel imperience but I’m coming from the fringe where the window twitching fan of the Peruvian knew well what its like to see lines of code, falling, where it once seemed like a solid creation. You could say the bejeezus was scared out of him when he nearly awakened the Warrior within but preferred, instead, to remain plugged in as he felt Morpheus tricked them. Which, in a sense, he was correct as what he of long trench and battery at finger tip didn’t seem to comprehend was the midget was super slick and had created a place of false light to trap those who wished to escape from his created darkness but thats another topic, my friend.
Ah man, I’ve said it all, indirect, in this sketch. Did you know that, up until the present, no one has read these words I’ve sent to the web? Hundreds of articles packed with immense run on sentences that keep saying the same thing from a different perspective as I attempt to juxtapose the correct arrangement of spells and such things to pick the lock on the doors of your perception with the hopes you too get to envision at such a hi res that the previous version you accepted, without question, is revealed to be a copy of the real thing that is akin to the wavy warps and trackings of a bootleg VHS from back when. Thats how the superfine mist of consciousness tastes but I guess this text is akin to swishing a cup full of water around the head of a land locked Bedouin as I attempt to approximate an ocean to one who only ever seen the sands drift. Fear may be the mind killer but a legally mandated education on what (not how) to the think is what assassinated your imagination, back when, which is mad ironic if you consider it as its used every day to power the mass engines of everything from religion to porn as well as all the money thats fit to print. Is it getting solipsistic in here or are you catching my drift?
“Are we finished or is you done?”.
What if the answer isn’t a Catcher in the Rye Twenty Two but not giving a Huck Finn Eleven:Eleven instead that splits the difference and ascends up the mid? Process vs Processed, ya dig? Like a universe with a youniverse within. Oh yes, like Bobby said, things get hectic but also mad simplistic which is a huge paradox, isn’t it? You ever wondered why there are huge search parties and news updates, repeated, if the person in question is white, slim and attractive versus, say, Shaniqua from the bricks who won an ugly pageant, while passing, on public transportation and not having a clue what was happening as she chugged her Slim Fast to wash down the dregs of her latest investment in bad health courtesy of a branded convince which sells the kind of things that make Michael Douglas take a break from munching the kitten and unleash a load of bullets into your cerebellum? What if reality is actually flipped and what we class as descent to matter from spirit is the opposite and its the chunk of fat in your head that creates consciousness and allows the contemplation of all of this and then, by some miracle, the atoms of everything rearrange themselves like a bunch of errant disciples that said:
“Quick, look busy, Jesus is coming!”.
What if he’s already here and we are he? What then, my friend? The Gs are us, ha! How is that for a cosmic coincidence? The Warrior rejects this spell, reality tests and chooses to go in and see dense instead aka upping your res. Man, as I type this another sync just kicked that proves my hypothesis about this superfine mist that tastes like sunshine feels on your skin but the glow shines from within and makes the cold ball of electric in the sky seem like a mere candle in the winds of ignorance as a den of vipers attempt to extend their poisonous grip but is that a threat or a promise to awaken the cosmic dragon that languished, in ignorance, within the Cave (or Egg, if you wish) aka the beyond good and evil principle that takes one from the dizzying spin of the rim and becomes Centered in Self instead and comprehends they are nothing more and nothing less than an aspect of the Prime, pre-existing one, who dwells as a multitude in this realm aka pure consciousness. That is akin to a taking an canvas, stripping the ink, pulling the frame which builds tension and then reverse engineering the process to come back to a field of hemp that brings its own declaration of independence that rings in the golden ratio, once again, ergo everything is in perfect balance as the tele/microscope does its thing and the coherently collapsed creation of consciousness called the fractal of the Fifth Dimension does its thing as we, little fish, swim through the Fourth, invisible, but don’t click why each and every religion has a Three woven in.
It ain’t hard to tell. Or maybe it is. I can’t even call it at present as I’m too busy unwrapping the gift that was, for a long time, wrapped in paper of dreaden silk that felt like sackcloth against the skin but that too was a vagary of perception, my friend, because the media training can have you hating the liberator and cheering for your own oppression. Is that the root cause of all coping mechanisms? A thorn built to protect that turned in with an inverted spin like he who wished to serve the gods but grew to resurrect demons instead? What if we are all playing the same parts but at different wavelengths of sketch and thus it matters not who or how many read this as I’m merely talking to my Self just like you do with that voice in your head as you replay old conversations with imagined new ends which, if you stop and think, is a really, really bizarre habit but nowhere near as strange as those who deny it when pressed why they were sitting and staring into space whilst microexpressions did their thing and told an observant jit what kicked within… “Time to reality test!” he said and, since then, developed this habit to become something else entirely:
One that is Self coding, life affirming and all together quite thrilling as its akin to playing a Game that is constantly evolving and keeps recoding its experience to create something perfectly tailored to the one who causes the kaleidoscope to spin in the hopes that he remembers to forget the primacy of consciousness and that, my friend, is the single greatest effect most can never imagine because the sheer amount of slick pimps needed to convince a god that he isn’t but is human is akin to a prism taking pure light and breaking it down to its aspects then sticking more and more of these on the end to repeat the process aka turtles all the way down but peacock feathers in ascent and its with this we’ll end this missive that is nebulously specific and really quite spiffing as it was my pleasure to share this imperience with you, my friend.
Till we meet again
