Someone once said that Plato mentioned a concept of Cave in which people shackled in some obtuse contraption which becomes second nature to them and thus obscures their Prime state. Sometimes a man escapes from the pit and ascends beyond the flame and shadow interpretation to feel the sun upon his skin and this revelation hits like a thunderbolt. Some call it enlightenment and they run for the hills in order to spend their rest in contemplative bliss as they transcend the illusion. Others (foolishly?) feel an immense swell of compassion for those still trapped beneath and turn back to assist them.
Can you guess what happens next?
Yep, the living hostages kill them and or yelp and yell at the thought of liberation because, get this, they already Thunk they’re free. If that isn’t the mind F to end all mind Fs then I don’t know what is, and yet, billions served daily. Today I realized something that made me feel an immense sadness within:
This world has no use of truth.
All they want is their suspicions and or opinion confirmed. Everyone can go to hell as long as the crazy paving says heaven, yes? But this isn’t what did it. What did was the grip hypocrisy and obliviousness has on the minds of most plebs. For the first I imperienced why the Slave/Masters look at these poor Souls with such contempt, class them as less than human and attest that if one dares to strike or rise up against one of the clique they are as good as dead and will be put down like a feral animal – never to be thought of again.
Unless you have a powerful friend…
“Bite the hand that feeds and expect a Nine double M to the temple – courtesy of your maker” goes the mindset of those who are plugged in to a principality which is no pal of the Prince and thus they said to him:
“This is who you picked? You’d choose to go against us and all we’re offering for a bunch of remedial idiots that will compete among themselves to rip you to shreds for daring to contradict what we poured into their heads? Don’t you get there is a natural order to things? There is us and then there is them. The only thing we have in common is that we both breathe oxygen but even that is different as these beasts lack a Soul anyway and the only reason they exist is to serve and carry our burden. Cattle, more or less. Not cows that are sacred as we’re off that mess. No more vegetables are accepted, only death. Think of it as a harvest of the world and we are the reaper that appears grim but actually grins and is a villain. As intended. Favored undertakers with an exclusive contract to get ill. This is who you picked?” was uttered with a shake of the head for when one does the rest chime in as its an all or nothing type of thing with a shared consciousness that shares its resonance as they lap up what it gives in a way that isn’t really that different from the Slaves who believe that voice in their head is them…
Ironic.
Contraptions within contraptions or a Matrix wrapped around the selfsame thing. Thats the realization. How truly F’d people are in this dimension because “being human” is a literal life sentence and if you don’t up your resonance via expanding your consciousness whilst in the flesh then it back for another spin because if earthbound concepts fill your consciousness then its a one way ticket back to hell, as requested. Really ponder what I’ve just said. Do so at the depth. Keep doing it until not only that voice in your head is irritated but everyone you talk to about it and then you may just crack the shell and gain some real freedom. After this take a few more steps and then get back to me once you comprehend the world has no use of truth as they just want to be correct. Even if their life and mindset attests that whatever they cherish obviously isn’t working otherwise they wouldn’t be fat, sick, nearly dead and super stressed via their angst filled existence that has them dancing to the whims of a madman in their head that holds them captive like living hostages. Slaves, meet your Master. Slave/Masters, same thing but in another octave. And the we have the lowest on the totem pole, one both factions detest for their own reasons:
Imagined being cursed to see the truth in a world full of lies or, worse still, the dying light of Inner Sense being tortured, drip by drip, from the Soul of the so called schizophrenic who comprehends the true nature of the Game we play using our Souls as credits as he comprehends that the thoughts in his head are not his but broadcast via an Opponent whose methods are so effective that 81% accept his edicts in ignorance and the other 11% can’t get enough of that funky stuff as it feels like they’re mainlining the secret truth of the universe.
They say absolute power, corrupts absolutely but thats only the loud part. Whats kept quiet is that it happens in increments, degrees, if you will much like frogs being boiled in a kitchen. They could escape any minute but the weather that, at first, seems clement then shifts into a sauna type experience which is hyped by the rest and who wishes to betray their new friends by saying:
“Is it hot in here or is it just me?” because everyone wants to look like they can hang. Especially when they know they’re being judged in secret and everything is a test as the smallest things can have the largest effect when it comes to closed door open secrets…
The most dangerous thing in this realm is the baby brain because it matters not if one is an imbecile or multi-dimensional traveller, par excellence, as it equalizes the odds, real quick. Thing is, just like the pigs, some are moreso than others and this offers an interesting hint into the process in which we have horses for courses and a place for each thing. Who, at some point, hasn’t felt like some kind of peg that has been hammered and shaped to fit into a blueprint that isn’t in resonance with their true spirit? Thats the Game, my friend. Reject it and expect its Agents to do the same and this can range from things of a minor inconvenience designed to elicit reactions or test your patience all the way up to a dance with death that comes, dressed, as something they know you want, real well. No secrets on that side. In that respect Slaves are akin to sentient fingernails whilst their Masters are the tendons and the greatest trick is to pimp from a distance via a stealthy influence then sending the poor sap the bill for their own ignorance and honoring the cheque they sign for another spin in the flesh aka the great karma con. Are you listening?
Probably not as I suspect this may sound like rambling metaphysics which are a little too abstract to make sense and apply on the reg but the amazing thing about the brain is that unknowing something is quite difficult and takes a lot of effort but, now that you’ve read this, when the time manifests and you come face to faceless with the decep then a little quiet voice within that speaks via the Psylense will draw your attention to this missive and it may just save you from another spin on the psychosocial treadmill in which you were trained to accept work, buy, consume, die as the algorithm whilst you amused yourself to the death and missed the obvious:
You are in the Cave. A living hostage. Stuck in a contraption, enthralled by an illusion and totally unaware of your true strength and greatest power:
Imagination.
Break the spell.
I, magi, nation.
What if, right now, I could make you super rich or totally fearless. Which one would you pick and why? After choosing consider the alternative in a pro/con situation and flex your pre-ten-dimensional muscles that have atrophied from a lack of use. Haven’t you ever wondered why the book is always, always, always better than the movie? What about the decimated attention spans of the current gen to whom several thousand word articles wrote in rhyme are akin to Kryptonite. Say, what if Superman did land and he was one and the same thing as the fallen angels of legend and thus taught men how to kill, women how to beautify themselves and the trend survives to this day as what they call “show business”. Ninety percent is the latter and the ten slapped on top is but a show and tell for the plebs as celebs live in golden cages whilst they run iron mazes. Same pimp, different tricks.
This world has no use of truth because the Opponent in their head is allergic to it. Did you ever wonder what and whom Jesus meant as the father of lies as the truth was not in him? Its worth pondering at depth and then looking at the world that was built in his image for this particular stage of the Game we’re playing using our Souls as credits. The baby brain is something else. It truly is because its identical in scope as the golden age life and times but dumbed down to fit this modern age of iron and when the coming age of Techno Sapiens does kick in people won’t get the shell Game has moved to another level and its just an illusion or a new dress for an old demon that was waiting in the wings, rubbing his palms in anticipation as he grinned.
If you could, just for a moment, escape the Cave and transcend (Get it? Trance end?) your altered state of awareness you’d get what I mean and would readily declare war on your (false) self like I did, back when, as I comprehended that if what I knew actually worked, perfect, then my life would reflect it otherwise garbage in, garbage out is the algorithm. The Game did not like this. Not one bit as its all built on traumatic mind control and one who years to Know thy Self is, in effect, a threat to the global plantation in which good men are hunted for sport whilst the rest are oblivious to the suppression and quiet war being waged against them by the noiZ and its agents aka the Slave/Masters. Say hello to your little friends! Titled so as we are actually the Titans who’ve been trained, real well, to kneel at the feet of midgets.
Don’t you ever look at the world or your own life and laugh at how ridiculous it all is? Can you even chortle about such things or are you too busy dragging around the anvils of your belief system that weigh down the child within? They say that old deceptions need fresh bloodshed and that should tell you a thing or ten about nine eleven and how the world is a stage. I mean, why didn’t Narayah go to jail for taking the stand and lying in order to start a war under false pretenses? If not this then why not, at least, give her an award for such an amazing performance as the whole world bought it, hook, line and sinker. Apart from Dr David Kelly, that is, who mysteriously offed his on switch in strange circumstances and no one said a thing. Why even bother? The world has no use of truth, like I’ve said and you’ll either be defamed or get a bullet in the melon whilst the real demons in the flesh – like Churchill, for example whose death count makes Hitler and Mussolini look like angels – are lauded and celebrated because he who controls the present dictates the past and tune to which his captives are dancing. Usually without rhythm.
Is it racist to wonder why there is a group of folk on the planet, sans melanin, who are literally allergic to that which gives life to the rest of the planet and, in a strange parallel, they’ve carved out a nice little niche winning the hearts of the locals then cutting them out and sending them home along with all the resources they looted in the name of “civilizing” the savages who had never, ever seen such brutality as when that triple crossed flag landed on them.
“I’m alright, Jack” said that characteristic stiff upper lip which tells a story, in Psylense, about the true meaning of the Pane Body but the world has no use of truth because if they did we wouldn’t be in this mess and addicted to coping mechs. But who wants to hear this? Who gives an F? Someone once made quite a perceptive comment after a session with the following quip:
“You, the real you, behind the scenes and formative, must be so spectacularly broken in order to think like this and notice such strange links that seem obvious when mentioned but are otherwise invisible because its like there is something trying, desperately, to make sense of everything like its driven by a compulsion that would rather choose death than quit and that signals to me that it must be personal because I’ve never, ever met anyone who lives like this and I’m quite a social animal”.
She wasn’t wrong. The question is, do I have any use of the truth?
Till we meet again
