They build me up to tear me down, kill me dead to see if I can, once again, resurrect my Self. Thats the generation and destruction aspect, in full effect, ergo that means the preserver is the operator therefore the irrational constant they weave into a thread called one life to the next and now, at this very moment, I’m sitting front row watching a slowed down version of the Be Kind, Rewind effect in which I get to check the pedigree of my lineage. Sounds like torture, doesn’t it? Most people live and die with no gnosis of the tele/microscope but the paranoid schizophrenic gets caught up in the mix hence people think he’s flipped his lid when, in reality, he simply sees what the others miss as they’re too busy running the treadmill. I, in contradiction, appear to be swimming lengths from one point to the next with a little help from my friends. Heck, it feels like the only free will I possess is that of my reaction or response-ability, if you will. Every time part of me dies another does rise. In many ways it seems like I’m a beta tester for the latest version of the mental OS they’ll program into the next gen who is on a mission to bug fix and iron out the kinks as they upload one runtime to the next and see how I deal with it. Pretty wild, isn’t it?
If I do nothing they bring in the Agents. If I do something, I meet the same grift but from a different perspective as I wander the Mobius strip. No wonder schizos flip, eh? “Why do you persist?” they say, with teeth grit. “Because I choose to“. Except this is not a script in a motion pic. But it is. One I live. The taming of the shrew whilst riding a tiger with a dragon coming into view. You aren’t paranoid, my friend, if they really are plotting and scheming, yes? I guess thats the downside of being an immortal as they can’t kill you dead, but they sure as hell can and will invert and flip all of the axis in their grip to see how you handle it. Its like being born on a rollercoaster in a funfair of ignorance. At least the rest of you get to enjoy the thrill of queuing for a bit to ride an attraction as you yelp with friends at the thrill causing neurons to fire in sync and lay down tracks you’ll recollect with a fond grin. For me, the fun never ends and what this means, in the end, is you get so used to a million miles an hour, even when you’re resting, that you start to look around the park as its Self evident your sketch runs on tracks and such things. In order to keep it interesting they loosened the seatbelt at the top of a loop then accelerated round the segment so I fell into exactly where I left. And on it went. Someone, somewhere, is either laughing, taking intense notes or casually observing the reactions of their plaything. A pretty wild statement for a god in the flesh, yes? Thats what you get when you’re born in the jaws of the dragon with enforced enlightenment as the script in which you’ll die a thousand deaths and resurrect all that plus one. All in a singular incarnation! No wonder schizos flip, eh? Look for me, lost in the whirlwind as I sit in the midst of the cyclone and find my Self with a grin through each of these shifts.
Imagine you watched a movie of movies in the sense that someone took the footage of the first appearance of a megastar in the making then stitched together a coherent narrative using various segments they’d intersected along with a sprinkle of tech and flair of elegance which cumulated with the ascent of said principle to become what everyone knows and recognizes. All of the elements are familiar but the progression is new and unexpected which is mad ironic considering its made of old bits, rearranged. Nobody has done this yet, but they will, as its AI in a nutshell. Or, in other words, the lives I’m living. Can you imagine how it feels knowing you had a little interstellar spaceship in which to zip from one planet to the next as a vagabond Prince doing it all for kicks? Then contrast that with being a Shamans adept since you were crawling as you flash forward to a Turn Off, Tune Out, Drop In rebel that bucks the Systems silicon ingress to find emancipation from the digitally modulated consciousness in order to see how it feels to be just human. Suddenly, so much about a little bit makes way more sense, my friend. Build me, kill me, slaughter my innocence to see if I can resurrect my Inner Sense and then we do it all again. In this spin I feel like I’ve walked this realm for eons and this is prep for my exit and ascent. And it involves so many forces, some of which masquerade as people. I believe an old philosopher once said that not everything that walks in the flesh is human and he may just be correct…
I’m responsible for all of this though, without a trace of the ironic, and that is what is so comically tragic about the whole performance. I guess you’ll get it when you arrive. Or maybe not. If this is what it takes for an exodus then a lot of you better get used to wearing flesh and running the treadmill until you’ve filled your personal beach of ignorance with eternal grains of sand based on each spin. Thats a lot of living, eh? Think the fix might be in with the mindwipe effect or is it a merciful gift rather than flicking through lives and their recollections in the flesh like you surf Netflix? I’ll let you tell it. No wonder schizos flip, eh? Imagine being able to see the Game with pixel perfect precision in such a high resolution that it makes the latest tech look like a flickbook filled with scribbles, in comparison. See, the trick on the rollercoaster, or main challenge, if you will, is seeing if one can become a mirror in the sense that you reject nothing, accept everything and let go what leaves without a feeling of yearning. If that is what it takes to ascend from this realm then how many are willing to pay the bill? Fewer still will click that its exactly the state a baby presents in for those few moments of equilibrium in between the pains and pangs of regret that come with wearing the flesh again of which your Soul is not fully neuromotor cognizant nor is your unfinte awareness yet dipped to a suitable level of resonance plus you’re totally dependent on those who care give and their particular definition of said thing and methods of actualizing this. Whats in your bundle, my friend? When will you take the time to check it because even if what I’ve said is a mere though imperiment it brings an interesting state of consciousness to consider, yes? The hero with a thousand faces. None of them real until he grins when the authentic reveals itself as an energetic presence of resonance. And yet, some smile and are villains whilst many are crying within but project the opposite… Its a strange world, isn’t it?
Imagine you lived like a prime Kobe cow who was fed the best, kept at ease, without stress, regularly massaged and hand fed since stepping in? Heck, you even get a little coat for when its chilly and your living conditions are the best you can get. No numbers for you as a mere cattle like the rest. Oh no, you get a name and birth certificate which traces your heritage. Much time goes into creating the moniker as it must match the animals temperament for it will set the resonance for the rest. Even though life is a low stress as it gets for a modern mooing thing they get brushed and massaged to mellow out a bit. Stop and ponder this life then compare it to the fact that over half the planet live on less than five bucks a day. The math ain’t mathing, is it? Or maybe it is? Who am I to call it but a man riding a rollercoaster as he pushes the pen and sends his thoughts to the web? Better yet, if you could switch you life for that of the cattle, which one would you pick? Better yet, how about a bird? Or about half a century as the big fish of the ocean, a shark from greenland? How about topping the bill as an immortal jellyfish that, get this, is born, ages, hits the Be Kind, Rewind effect in the flesh and pops up looking mighty fresh. The gene spliced algotech from the previous two is what will be used to create Techno Sapiens with immensely increased lifespans in a bit, watch. Get it, watch? Heh!
Time is a strange thing, when you really think about it. Its why I said Jesus repped the Sun and zodiac which take us to the Aeons of Gnostic legend who guessed, correct, this realm is a simulation that, like the jellyfish groundhogs the motions with some slick camera tricks like a clock stuck between a tock and tick as its, technically, off the record. But then, the Forth Dimension is made of vinyl anyway and we’re all coals becoming diamonds so it makes a load of sense doesn’t it? Do animals have Souls? Karma and such things? If not, why do some live and die in force fed hells and the others get a luxury trip to the plate of a fat businessman quaffing an expensive red with friends as they decide how to carve up the planet to generate most dividends. Why am I sitting on a rollercoaster like some type of ghost on these killing fields as I push the pen and share my unique vision in times when people are rushing to become generic, super quick. I guess thats what they mean about being but not of this world, yes? Is that the ballad of the immortal jellyfish? If Wagyu cows could sing what refrain would lilt from their lips other than the “Moo!” we expect which, when flipped, reveals the cosmic Om which is why they were, back when, held in global reverence as the Sages clicked we’re in a simulation that is built on sound, vibration and resonance. What if this whole thing with Kobe is actually a secret ritual that encodes so much information within it that most miss the significance and true meaning of the symbolism as they’re functionally illiterate but believe they comprehend, real well. Its like a hen in the coop that turns to the rest and says there is something sketch about the whole presentation and the promise of a long vacation on an island of bliss with a fancy chicken to get it clicking. The rest prep a tinfoil turban for her head as they said “Don’t be so ridiculous!“.
But we know better, eh? Or do we?
Till we meet again
