Lets pretend that something happens. Its quite dramatic, but private. You can’t really explain it but you start developing some new skills. Superpowers, even. Chief among them is that you can see an hour into the future. At first it hits with immense belts of confusion and you’re scared you may be flipping your lid. Being wiser than the average you say nothing to the rest as its Self evident that anyone who questions the treadmill, voice in their head or the sheer improbability of all of the elements that needed to align for them to be wearing flesh on a planet is obviously a schiz who needs to be filled with so many pills that he rattles. No, you tread a higher Path and keep this to your Self but, internally, your world is shattering from being a solid image into a kaleidoscope instead. That term is most accurate because each step brings a constellation of elements into a new arrangement of merriment and they animate based on intent for that is the force that underpins action in this realm…
Formerly a social animal, par excellence, you retire from the circuit and sit alone in your four corner room, staring at candles, listening to the sound of nothing. Your logic and reasoning is that if you can find that still point in the mid around which your fragmented awareness obviously spins you may get some answers. You trawl the net, read every book you can get and try and broach the concept with those who state they’re familiar with expanded awareness or peak states. The answers you gain further cloud the image as, due to your skill, you start to see where the road leads before taking a step. The sheer amount of information overwhelm is akin to having spent your whole life playing Checkers (and quite well) only to comprehend that what you were decoding as a single piece, replicated, with black or white tint and specific rules of movement was akin to jerking it to porn which caused you to miss you’re actually a King on a hyperdimensional table as there is a Four D Game of timespace chess kicking and thus there are three boards in operation at the same instance with each one presenting a level of the coherently collapsed creation of consciousness you call “Being Human“. Well, called, that is. Now, everything is up for negotiation. Including the concept of death as its starting to become Self evident how much was exactly built in order to cause the waters of awareness you possess to drip from the cloud before pooling them being chilled and molded into the formerly solid frozen snowman you used to be. Imagine you could see an hour into the future:
“I am the Protagonist” you said, to your Self, and it was akin to a mirror gaining sentience and looking at its reflection as it leapt in to swim in the waters of forgetfulness. Words cannot explain this state as its preverbal but when you come to you suddenly comprehend exactly why you drew that symbol on the page, back when as the rest were paying attention…
Your mind is reeling from the implications as its strongly suggestive that where you’ve been is where you where you were before all of this and its silently underpinning this whole operation. You delve back in by accessing the zero point within. Its like being set adrift inside the engine of what powers dreams but backstage and thus you get to see the immense tricks, flips, edits and remixes that go in to creating the illusion of one human playing another in a Game of Checkers when, in reality, the only thing they got correct is that there is a board, some pieces, two tints and rules. They are totally ignorant that they aren’t actually moving a thing as, on their level of ignorance, free will simply does not exist. What is actually happening is that their Higher Self (which Knows the Ledge) is actually playing as intended and thus it shifts elements in the mix of 4Dxo (as you’ve termed it) that those on the narrow end of the bandwidth spectrum then Thunk they’re doing when, in reality, they’re simply enacting hence why they can believe the rules are as said when, in actuality, its something else.
A lot about a little starts to make way more sense as, before this, you’d often pondered why you’d done things that ticked a box marked “Success” in your head but, in reality, you didn’t feel like this but, on the flip, you’ve rose in bed to a moment of pure chaos with a huge grin on your lips and spring in your step. The implications are, once again, rumbling. “I had always known the truth in the midst of fakeness but each time I slipped and fell over it I never stopped to examine the state of play“. You click your tongue and, like a blind man, notice you are building third eye visions inside your head behind closed lids that are influencing the kaleidoscope and its shifts. “Interesting” you think as you start to ponder the links between the vibrations your mouth ejects and the requisite shifts of consciousness. Quite a while ago, on a whim, seemingly, random, you’d rejected the official programming of stating one is, frequently, in a “weak daze” whilst awaiting getting “weakened”. You had, for no reason that made sense (but just felt correct) started using the term “Strengthened” instead ergo:
“Ah, that was a heck of Strength, wasn’t it? Even though it was just one Ray linking to the next I couldn’t help but marveling at how beautiful it was all clicking”.
Your friends accepted this blip as, to them, you’d always been a tad eccentric in your orbit of the scene but they liked that, they liked that, as it kept it interesting for fear did not exist within your mental space and this they found most refreshing ergo they’d often swing by your personal oasis of inspiration for a swig as they’d arrive with a problem and leave with a solution as you, in an instant, would intuit the elements in their grip and how best to rearrange them. So they did. Then grinned and said:
“Thanks, man, you really are something else”.
A huge block melts like an immense line in Tetris just hit and you feel a sense of relief wash over a chunk of resonance you didn’t even notice was dead in the sense that it lacked the coursing voltage it now possesses again. “I had been doing this all along but didn’t click as it was totally natural. What the heck is happening?” you think as you delve into ever increasing isolation which, paradoxically, brings you closer and a closer to what you’ve termed the Prime state as it feels so real and authentic that this life seems akin to a dream which kept on continuing from behind closed lids and, in a state of ignorance, you gladly invested in the concept of wearing flesh and the rest as you walked along the treadmill with the rest, one adjusted. Until you decided to stop moving, entirely. Momentum and gravity did what they did and suddenly you were free from this enforced motion life had created as you see the Beast for what it is as images of Platos Cave with its shadow, flame and contraption swim into your awareness. Feeling a sense of discomfort you clamber back on but are now more aware than the average at the illusion of progress as each treadmill is isolated and there are screens on the floor, wall and ceiling that are linked to its speed of progress ergo if you run, full belt, the scene shifts from broke to rich (or whatever it is you imagine) based on your investment in all the Shekels they said are fit to print. As you may have guessed, things will never be the same again.
You try and broach the topic in conversation with friends about how there is a process inside your head that makes you sprint, that way and this, but is actually an immense illusion as you sketch the gnosis you gripped as you lay on the floor and watched the empty machine, ghosted. Their reactions are intense. So intense that, later on, some send messages that they didn’t know what came over them. Tellingly, none of them ever speak on it again and if you happen to drop a hint in passing its almost like its edited from their awareness. Instead of generating a sense of disconnection or anomie you approach the topic with bonhomie and request how the heck its possible, from your friends, to draw such immensely differing opinions of thee if you’re simply one man? To preface this you’d had each one of them draw up list of your attributes, what they liked, didn’t etc after a few drinks. See, you knew that in vino, veritas and thus timed it well so as they all scribbled away in ink you watched their process, processing.
“If we were to take all of these disparate elements and mix them into one man the results would be impossible as so many of them contradict what the next chap said for one of you states “Is blunt as a spoon and cares not for anyones feelings” whilst another says the opposite of how I’m totally sensitive and is always present and correct at just the right moment they needed help”. You go on to reel off a list with examples of samples from each of their lives that resonate with this beam of thinking and generate some form of agreement that there is something off with this sketch and how, maybe, they may just be interacting with figments of their imagination versus something truly objective. A few nod, many shake, and the rest yelp:
“Why don’t you have an off switch with this mess? It does my head in sometimes. FFS, we’re just trying to chill on the weekend” he said, as you commented that that is exactly what he was getting as you decided to stroll home underneath the moonbeams and starlight. You get home. Then something happens. Its quite dramatic, but private. You can’t really explain it but you start developing some strange side effects. Chief among them is that you can see an hour into the future. At first it hits with immense belts of confusion and you’re scared you may be flipping your lid. Being wiser than the average you start comprehending how you may just be a strange loop that is currently lost in a fractal of coherently collapsed consciousness which had been steadily, incrementally, inevitably, leading to an awakening of the Warrior within who clicks he isn’t just an element of the true King playing 4Dxo on many levels at the same instance against an identical Opponent that manifests as, get this, not just everyone else in this realm (via that voice in their head) but pretty much every single thing you’d ever previously accepted as the locked focus kaleidoscope of consciousness that was bought to move and shift as it offered cryptic hints using 8 words that were simultaneously silent and sonorous for they sprang from between the lines most were not even aware they colored within and thus, Self evidently, from that zone in the middle that was constant, everywhen:
“The Game of Souls has you, my friend”.
Till we meet again
