There is the objective and subjective realm. Many may see one but only some can feel the shadows depth. To me it seems there is, trapped within, pain and dread of things that may or may not have been. Adding insult to injury are countless devilish schemes to divide and conquer what remains under various forms of tyranny. On top of this a civil war rages with each side being held in the grip of dictators who say exactly how it is as they fight, wrestle and grip for temporal control of your earthbound spaceship which in itself is stuck in a realm where the Souls can’t dwell by taking limited signals in which are then edited to fit in and show them what they expect as they jettison the rest. Unrealized potential, in full effect.
Taking it back a few steps there are events I couldn’t bear, shame I couldn’t feel and wounds that never healed that weep gently within various aspects of my embodiment. Sometimes they limit motion, ranges, angles and such things. Others are aches and pains that can seem never ending or fleeting. My mood dips and rises by the most obtuse whims of this influence whilst in states of diffuse meditation as there are days when its all gone to hell and the Devil stands there with a grin and I can do naught but laugh because I’m so detached from the life I used to pretend to live. The West would call this psychosis with a hint of de-realization thrown in whilst the East, correct, states the opposite that its transcendence in full effect for one has overcome the illusionary self and all its programming. “Two birds, sitting in the same tree” said the text, ancient, wisely…
Long, long ago parts of me were disconnected. I still feel their absence even though I haven’t accessed them since then. Its strange how you can miss that which you never experienced in the truest sense, yet and still, that is exactly how it is. Merciless thieves broke into my temple and helped themselves to the best, desecrated what was left and daubed their own message along with countless threats across what once was a splendor of innocence. Defiled, tainted, abused. These words described my tale well and each step I took in the flesh is akin to a living hell where there are those parts of me know that fine well what kicks and remember precisely what happened whilst the limited facet says “Not yet, you can keep handling it as you did because we’ve got more interesting things to think and distract you with“. Like I said, civil war. One they cannot win because whoever kills the other dead loses themselves as well. In the midst of this I sit, a ruined king on a broken throne with his empire torn to shreds. A man out of time, on another vibe in this, his last spin in this realm.
Take these gifts I share with abundance for my cup overfloweth and is filled from beyond this false creation that sells all the money thats fit to print to plebs, well adjusted, to such immense social sickness that they mistake wisdom for ignorance whilst, simultaneously, doing the flip thanks to the mental gymnastics they accept to make sense of wearing flesh as they tread on a planet that floats in the abyss whilst chasing a fireball into the distance as the base of their existence.
Each breath feels like death designed to prolong the stress which extends so well and covers, thin, every inch and crevice of my awareness with its noxious influence. Yes, the past is always present. In that sense it never left even if in the interim you picked up a pen and write the wrongs as you see them because one who is driven by vengeance is more than willing to sacrifice himself to take the rest with him. Gladly with a grin as we dive into the abyss because then the hurt and suffering would at least make some sense and hopefully this prevents anyone else from having to witness the trials I’ve survived and thrive within. You can’t afford to tell lies when the truth shines bright inside because to do so would be to besmirch that which survived throughout all they tried to dim my light, prevent my rise and deny my right to speak my mind without fear or reprise. Such is the deal when you come strapped with the wish to go against the System that equips so many of the embodied with a Mind Made Prison which places them in a life of discomfort to which they’re wholly ignorant and have no wish to think different because that which they once possess was disconnected. What I’ve said from the jump is no different for anyone living this realm at the present moment because even though some may think the descriptions are intense and they’ve lived nothing like this you’d be surprised what you find once you dig past the screen of memories of events that never really happened as you recollect nor the anguish so hidden, all usually before the age of ten, that defines the rest of your existence.
Rage against the dying of the light isn’t even something that enters their mind as they instead flick the switch. Such is the electric plight in which, all by design, styled to be seductive, people trade more for less and never question why the equation doesn’t balance in their best interests. And yet for them its better than letting the truth sink in as then they’d have to reclaim their depths. This is abyss with which I dwell and from where I’m sending you this message because I’m sure within there is the same in you my friend. The only difference is I don’t pretend nor hide one bit. Instead I chase my demons when they appear screaming at the top of my head because I won’t let my fear be used against me as a weapon any more. I have too much respect for the inner child that bore Witness to the events that fragmented my consciousness and sent me scrambling as my tortured and broken flesh was assaulted in an attempt to murder my Spirit before I’d even made a dent or considered making a chip in the edifice of modern living. Thats on Crip, Blood…
Guess thats the thing with these interdimensional beings as they know the deal when it comes a seed which could grow to a tree and shake their very story to its roots and thus they poison it, attack it every chance they get and purposefully malnourish it. All under the guise of care give when in reality they couldn’t care less and take all they’d get and then come back demanding interest. The depths of wickedness in this realm is something I know full well. They joys and pleasurable things are mysteries in many respects so what the common man knows well to be is foreign and alien. The land within which I dwell is just as odd for him as he lacks the bearing, insight and frame of reference but I reassure they are connected in ways more than six as the nature of this dimension is to make a killing, in every sense anywhen.
The Game of Souls has you, my friend.
To some, reading, it may scream “That man is depressed. He must be off his meds!” when the truth is something else as it is them, the 81%, who (in the words of Krishnamurti) are so well adjusted to mass social sickness that to question the paradigm means ones mental health is not correct. Can you see how slick your Opponent is and why I’ve said you’re being fed upon a predator of consciousness? Once you learn to divine the fine line between the unconditioned mind and the limits it learned to accept, back when, then there are but two choices:
Madness or enlightenment.
Jung knew this well hence his Red Book attempt as did PKD with his Exegesis and its thanks to them I came to comprehend that enlightenment is a solo sport as second hand gnosis is as much use as a man on an island of lesbians. Its like trying to describe a dream to someone else as it shows, real well, how words are indeed spells and rites as they lack the emotional depth of symbols and their innate ecosystems which brings us back, full circle, to the whole objective/subjective thing aka the microscope and telescope effect.
And yet, like Mr Anderson, I choose to persist for if I hadn’t checked the notes left by those who too stepped to create the Path by walking who knows if I’d have made it to this point in my adventure in the flesh where I came to comprehend the matter with Spirit does hide your greatest strengths beneath intense dreads hence the shadows depth offers illumination for those who dare traverse these inner states that the West denies exist but, ironically, pimps relentless via their use of signs and symbols which always put the Three on the Four but thats another topic, eh? Speaking of which, if you can decode the glyph above presented and what it is truly saying you may just Know the Ledge as I share to inspire others to take their own steps and neither follow nor believe anything I’ve said for these are simply my meanderings in a quest for meaning and liberation.
Comprehend, my friend, that one must die in the flesh in order to transcend the tricks of death as your mind doesn’t shift at the moment of disconnection so its best to build what survives destruction as this is the vessel of emancipation that is feather light as well for this realm is sealed, Hermetic, to keep the ignorance within… In an ironic twist, should you choose to Know the Ledge, you can reverse this sketch whilst living but it means the Hero’s Quest is in full effect as you delve into the shadows depth and all that was hid from the first time you rose, petrified, in bed and were certain that an invisible menace was staring only to have your embodied sensations and intuition waylaid by parents who shooed you away as they proclaimed:
“Its all in your head. Go back to bed”.
Who knew that “They Live” was a documentary, eh? I guess thats why I said there is what you watch and what it says for the most amazing thing about Hollywoods spells is how they scratch an itch whilst avoiding it and not going beyond the surface depth hence you’ll come back, again and again, which is always good for business. The thing is, with a Warriors intent, one can use the very tools of suppression and manipulation as vehicles for gnosis and enlightenment so the question is:
Till we meet again
