Imagine you were born drunk. Literally drawing liquor from the teat since you stepped in. You would learn to adapt and overcome the situation and accept it as “normal” – that word alone, by the way, is quite revealing to one who Knows the Ledge. Lets pretend that, somehow, you got out of this mess and sobered up instead. How in the hell would you relate to the rest? Do you think they’d comprehend or look at you like a madman when you said their water supply has been tainted in order to shift their perceptions via something that is a liquid but has a different spiritual content and intent. Worse still, what if this clarification and intoxication actually came from within and it was a trick of consciousness? What then? Well, my friend, you’re living in this.
Words are thoughts held hostage. They have been penned via rites and cursive to hold wavelengths in check. Much like the death of the goddess created the culture of temple prostitutes, back when, we are born into a war most don’t comprehend as they’re too busy trying to get ahead. Not aheart, is it? Starting to see the edge of your Thunking, yet? How about that you were a king who is now working instead? What about the fear of imperfection when, in reality, with breathing space “I’m perfection” reveals its face. I could do this all day because you, the living dead, wake and then yell “Good mourning” aka “Happy funeral!” as you urn a living – better known as cremating your potential. Out of all of the sinister tricks foisted upon the plebs there are none as perniciously wicked as the Devilish language as its woefully inept and communicating inner realms and, worse still, some of the most frequent spells put you in a hell of a mess as the intent and what you send are literally fighting among themselves.
A couple are in the throes of passion and one looks then says:
“I lxve you” with open chest. What actually happens, in and beyond this realm is that demonic intent is marshaled, charged with energetics and manifests as “You evil eye” instead. Don’t believe? Get a voice recorder app that flips back what you said and try an imperiment. Whilst you’re there see what kicks with “Eros me” aka “I’m sxrry” and do the Knowledge on what I said as you feelsee the energetics and their inverted process. And yet the 11% who want to see me dead are also speaking these spells whilst totally ignorant of the one they profess as the best and true one eyed king of this realm is the same architect that designed this filthy text by taking half of another language then flipping and inverting it before setting the terms and conditions in opposition. Consider its the lingua franca of this realm it shows the power of the one at the helm to exploit ignorance, yes? Did you know that, back when, people didn’t walk and talk? They danced and sang. You may ask where the proof is and I point you to the children as they do it as standard equipment before being taught (aka tort in the legal sense or induced tension as well) to “Sit up straight. Look ahead. Do well on the test or your parents will stress and withdraw their affection”.
This is what has you drunk on Thunk and stuck on stupid, my friend. Its why it tops the list in 8 Traits of the Slave as all of these scripts are programming languages par excellence and if you want to see spiritually impoverished people just check the track record of those with depleted melanin and museums full of looted heritage. Haven’t you ever wondered why Africa, India and South America look like large, melted triangles whose tips are being drawn to something and are all rich in spiritual traditions and natural minerals but are, somehow, kept dirt poor and suppressed as a bunch of peasants to be exploited? The truth often is way stranger than any fiction one can imagine, my friend, but lets get back on script for this missive:
You roll around in a “weak daze” awaiting the chance to drink and become “weakened” but never wonder why the spells all ref the planets as well as the link between the moon and day most drop dead on the way back to the office. How about the fact that Friday celebrates the feminine with most sipping a brew or ten as they go on the hunt for sex and how this links in with Frigg aka Venus. All across this ream in cultures, disparate, this is a common link and that should be enough to tell there is one intent at the helm that pretends to be other things for the divided conquering to commence. One who sees through this spell is a major threat for he holds the potential to remind you of what you were made to forget when the noiZ slid in to obscure the Psylense. Like I said, back when, there were no written records as ear to lips was the way of the song and dance as things were communicated via a living wisdom. Times dipped, the resolution slipped and here we are. That is the nature of the Game we play using our Souls as credits and thus it seems all this is ordained. Did I fall on the wrong side of the fence? Is my life a punishment for wishing to hand gnosis to the rest to ease their suffering? Is it akin to pushing a boulder uphill for those that won’t comprehend the depth or even bother to do anything? Who knows? Who cares? If its a fools errand then I am he, if my passion is blasphemy then make it immense so it rises above the rest as I give not one single solitary F about those who stand against because the 8% who comprehend what is meant can and will do something when the scales tip and my constant petition to the collective unconscious allows the rose of gnosis to sprout through the concrete of modern civs that have their heads filled with spells and are entirely disconnected from their chest.
I said, elsewhen, that if you take a pure Italian, French and English speaking selection of women and show me just a silhouette of each in motion I will be able to tell you, without erring, the two from across the Channel. How? Can you imagine it? What is the difference? You already know they’ll move with ways more elegant and the grace of embodiment that comes via the romance language programmed in, yes? This isn’t being racist or anything but you can take it how you wish as I’m just calling it how I sees because those famous stiff upper lips reflect in hips and shoulders along with spines and legs as well hence the lack of rhythm that generally manifests. If, on one side, you have a people black as pitch and on the other white as driven snow then what sits in the mid that none suspect and created this shift? Many theories abound on this but it all hints at the power of melanin as it can do some pretty amazing things as its a source of illumination if one is an alchemist… Getting back to the language:
Chinese, Panjabi and Igbo are tonal which means one word can mean many things as there is a living subtext of context, interpretation and meaning. The Nigerian “Ehen!” and the way they rearranged English entirely is one worth checking as is Ital because it is, in a sense, a spiritual immune system thing that caused the melanin antibodies to repel and reject the planned intrusion whilst shifting the wavelength. I mean, can you imagine a world without ADOS? For those not knowing this term refers to Black Americans who, since back when, have been the driving force of creative culture and innovation that was swiftly appropriated and repackaged for the rest. Ranging from Elvis to the Rolling Stones, Beatles and the rest up to modern rap and its outright dominance along with loads of other trends. All came from the ghetto. Ironic, isn’t it, that those who created the movements were often the last to profit and own virtually nothing nor have any say in their global image. Make of that what you will as its a deeper topic but its all interlinked as words are thoughts held hostage for they communicate at the lowest depths and signal a people who have lost their coherence to influence at a distance.
Haven’t you ever wondered why, ten times out of ten, you can tell when someone is staring at the back of your head? What about the time an old school friend you hadn’t seen since back when popped into your awareness and then you ran into them that PM? How about the chunks of people that avoid trips and public events in which things went wrong and they escaped their final destination due to something they don’t comprehend? These are the vestigial remains of Inner Sense in its naturally developed and fully expressed coherence. Every now and then they peep into the mix but are quickly shushed as most get on with the script they live. Not so for me as I developed these strengths and asked the hard questions from those who’d felt them kick. From the girl who was speeding, late, on the way to the office around a winding country bend when her music stopped working so she reached down to check the phone, slowed down a bit and clicked the radio to hear this instead:
Only to avoid a motorbike collision with a dude who was peeling rubber and way out of his lane as well to the Aberfan event in which the sky fell but instead of vapor and dense thing it was coal that went, hurtling, down onto a little village.
“Mummy, I’m not afraid to die” said the little girl to her parent who was busy trying to get her dressed and fed before being sent for schooling.
“You’re too young to talk about such things, do you want a lolly?” said the stressed parent who was doing a million and one other things.
“No, listen, I have to tell you about my dream as there was a huge black rain that fell on everything and the school did sink under the mess at such depth”.
The lady thought no more about this beyond the vivid imaginary ramblings of her kid for they lived in a poor coal mining village in a town near Wales. High on the hill was a coal tip. The remnants of what was left from mining. The child went to school and came back again so the next she was dressed and sent and what she envisioned did happen.
The avalanche thundered down the hill and covered the building, just as she’d said. Nearly a hundred and fifty were dead, Eryl Mai Jones among them as she sat in the Pantglas School where it happened. There were similar testaments on Nine Eleven as well as more mundane events and there is an immense narrative I’ll have to share someplace else that involves one who thought he’d flipped his lid as he started hearing voices and things that, in the end, saved his life which paints a very different pic than most get of what it means to be schizophrenic. On the other side of the prism, in a state of unified coherence, is the mystic or shaman of yore. Did you know that, back when, he could tell – much like the Three Wise Men who followed a star aka natal chart – which Soul would come in that had the potential to handle the voltage and pick up the mantle as the next spiritual counsel for the village. He would go and see the parents often before or during the conception and hand then some herbs, spices and secret information to assist in the development. After this they would hand over the child with great honor and respect as the medicine man raised him to gain alignment. What most don’t know about this process is it was a two way process in which he, himself, learned from his student whose eyes were most fresh and connection still direct and thus it brings a new meaning to standing on the shoulders of giants, yes? How different this is to the school system that took the life of the girl, mentioned. This is why I’ve said that words are thoughts, held hostage because when what defines your internal OS isn’t actually running at full spec its akin to being given a holophone from the future and then flashing Nokia brick firmware onto it.
You are capable of far more than you suspect and your true strength is immense. This is why every man, at some point, looks around and thinks “Is this it?” as we have places to itch in regions most don’t suspect exist. Thats the greatest trick because each child that steps in has golden age potential before we bludgeon them to death whilst keeping them living by pouring our own ways of Thunking into their heads to create little replications that will grow to be as much of a mess as their parents before they do it all again.
Really the scale of the problem is immense. The work needed to fix this is bigger still and it feels like I’ve been pushing a rock up a hill for decades in my own quest and if I’m being really real I often question the progress because its alienated from all and everything whilst bringing a divine attunement that makes me wonder how the hell I got into this mess and incarnated with the rest in the Valley of the Plebs and why it so important for me to share this message when most cannot nor will give a single solitary F about the true meaning as they’ll take the gnosis as a threat because they can’t comprehend they’re being fed upon by a predator of awareness that links in to what I said at the start of this message about being drunk on the Thunk thanks to a devious programming language designed to keep you in sync with the worst aspects and resonance whilst ignoring your true potent. I get why the ancient shamans (and the rare modern equivalent) lived some distance from the village, usually up a hill, in an intense state of isolation as it was them and the numinous in constant conversation. Did you know that, back when, we all had that connection? People Knew they were gods in the flesh, not being blasphemous, whereas now they place that power outside themselves hence fallen describes them best as those who are not Centered in Self will fall for anything – especially in a realm where signs and symbols are potent and used to exploit their ignorance as their minds are mined from within but, just like that village, we’re headed toward a point of crisis so when the dead bury the dead don’t say I didn’t tell you to prep hence watching the news is bad for your health, my friend, as the black mirror is the pimp and you’re the unwitting product that strolls on the strip as it fills your dome with spells thanks to the net and its tricks designed to ensnare your awareness into a groupmind kind of thing which is, in the end, just another symptom of modern ills for the wise Knew, back when, which is why they pressed palms at chest and bowed their head in reverence to the pure within thee which is the same as me that became a handshake instead for they needed to touch what they once sensed as water vapor became rain then fell to pool as water that was frozen to create modern sentient snowmen afraid of melting.
Till we meet again
