Consensual Insanity? Rejected

The easiest way to look at what you accept as reality is to term it consensual insanity. If you can generate the required dispassion and distance plenty of things shift from their forced perspective and a lot about a little makes way more sense. Just stop and think about the immense amount of training and manipulation that went in to create the personhood that was draped over your unfinite awareness as the (false) self then stop and check the amounts of random pains and tensions below the neck that, seemingly, come and go of their own whims and do the Knowledge, my friend. If you banged your hand you’d expect a swelling, some lack of function and impingement till the healing kicked. If, on the flip, you did the same and nothing happened but, at a later period, it started fixing for no reason then, later still, it hurt like hell and thus all was out of sequence you’d question the logic of what presents. Relate that to how you can have a pain in the neck one day, wake up cool the next and then feel a twinge in your back that vanishes again and you’ll start to up your res about how consensual insanity generates its causes which bring effects and why Doctors (like the news) are bad for your health. There is what we watch and what it says within because all forms of entertrainment send pebbles of others energetics into the pristine pool of your awareness where they, eventually, sink to the depths and suppress the fountain of bounty which ejects in multifaceted resonance so you end up with a small drip. What they never mentioned was these rock stars are feasting and beasting where they sit and the same times ten for such unexaminable concepts as religion, science or whatever else Simon Says.

This is the Game, my friend.

A few steps above this we find the field of the creative who – either via natural inspiration or chemical assistance – dives into the depths to eject said pebbles then transcribes the process of fresh energetics. The hint about this is why potheads don’t dream as they’ve already presented a withdrawal slip from their bank account of a higher realm. A bit higher than this is where the trippers visit after ingesting a heady blend of herbs and spices that help unfold the web of this geometric Pattern which is a coherently collapsed construction of consciousness aka a fractal. Nothing is hidden but the links sure are obscured but, if one should wish, the fingerprints of the hidden hand are ever present hence why nearly all linguistic spells detest the side the Pharaoh lead with and why he wore a headdress of the feathered serpent whilst thee, instead, dwell in Platos Cave and accept labels in lieu of sensations, fresh. Its all intended, in some respect, as is me pushing the pen as I explore my inner realms and send this dataset to the web for your consideration as you should accept none of what I said and, instead, attempt to prove me incorrect as what presents as logic could be a delusion but if a few of have the same trip then it provides valid clues about the nature of this illusion aka what the people expect the simulation causes to manifest hence why black mirrors are in each mans grip when, back then, they were used by secret service agents who were also practicing mystics to get a competitive edge on the rest in a Game as old as the empire itself. No umpire or ref though. They’ve been bought and sold since before Moses sashayed down the strip in his short pants then lifted what actually sat in the coffers of the Pyramid. Thats another topic though but take a cursory check into the immense ref of esoteric wisdom encoded into said monument and how it provides the key for decoding another option of awareness that, before the sky fell, was as common as the concept, at present, that the Earth is big, the universe immense and thus people are small and insignificant. They, on the flip, Knew we were within a Youniverse instead and thus this dimension, its inhabitants and the rest all the way back to the all of everything dwells within ones awareness ergo you never interact with anything beyond figments of your imagination so never trust an atom as they make up everything.

This too is just part of the process and I, as a disaffected malcontent, rebel against the current paradigm in which the bull of virtue stands on one leg for which they’re about to sell a silicon prosthesis that, to the denizens of Hell, will seem heaven sent as they miss the Trojan Whorez that kick at the sub cellular level aka how to get out of this bish and why everyone who tasted death and returned said:

“My life rewound like a tape and I felt a huge sense of bliss in which there was a dark tunnel with light at the end that was saturated with affection and, stranger still, it felt oddly familiar in its newness as I could tell someone was waiting on the other end”.

In other words:

This is consensual insanity, in full effect. Somewhere between the Valley of the Plebs that 81% accept, without question, and the highest high man can get without a chemical assist is the ocean of the perilous where the mystic swims and mad man is drowning. The pleasure trippers drop in with a bungee cord attached to a plane which shifts their base state of resonance much like a radio set can tune in to any number of signals and this is why its quite common to note non corporeal beings that either warmly welcome them or growl at their intrusion which offers a true hint of where dreams doth kick and why they have heir own internally strange logic that makes perfect sense until you shift to another resonance. That is personal insanity, drip fed. The so called schizo is, instead, force fed a buffet of hyperdimensional energetics against his will whilst the mystic develops the field of containment needed to use this much like a diamond body as opposed to one made of carbon. When you see life from this lens the meta of an amusement park of the flesh makes a lot of sense but when you pull out and up your res you can’t help but wondering about the nature of the intent at the helm for this spin and how their mindset is so different to the ones who were previously in control during the stages of Generation and Operation as we live in times of Destruction. Compress that to its familiar acronym and you’ll get why god is actually both a process and consciousness ergo you are it and the Devil as well which is totally mind bending hence the mindset of the so called schizo makes perfect sense as people thought Van Gogh was a scribbling idiot until modern tech invented some things that could see with his standard vision and noted he’d mapped, really well, the cosmic background radiation which is the Self same thing that manifests as TV static, back when, before the Game became digital as the Devil may be in the details but the Prime manifests as something else which is akin to a whole elephant, immense, in a room way too small for it as people peer in various windows that are dressed with specific curtains and scripts to obscure the entire thing whilst creating adepts of the Mystical Rope, Wall so Thick etc etc.

The ocean of the perilous is, as its name suggests, quite dangerous but when you’ve stepped into a life that is ten times more treacherous you develop a type of solace and resonance that equals the opposite disconnection from the flesh which is in this realm but you are certainly not of it. Am I singing to the deaf whilst dancing for the blind? Who knows? The coming tech will tap into the same thing but drip fed using augments hence why Siri intends to sit in your iris as the apple of your eye, already bit, but with no shyness present as people are hypnotized by one single facet of the black cube of existence which is akin to the small room within which the elephant sits and all, indirect, worship hence why the daze of the weak across this realm is linked to the planets which, above, spin and this was something I, as a curious jit, linked with the shape of the atom, as presented, and was duly ejected from the class for not relenting in my question to find the answer if we are, indeed, with a Jack & the Beanstalk thing. Art is a lie that tells the truth, my friend. When you live in times of universal deception that build consensual insanity tunnels within mens heads then fiction is the perfect vehicle to rep the authentic as, if sold as true, the mind would rebel and reject whereas one can easily watch the Matrix and pass undigested gems of gnosis in their intellectual roughage whilst the ones at the helm point to the terms and conditions then said:

“See, we told em! Ain’t our fault if they don’t get”. Such is the mindset of men who wrestle with god and, in a strange way, I’m doing the same thing except I’m of the gnosis that I am a fractal expression of the Prime, pre-existing, and the men who would be kings are thus nothing more or less than my imagination made manifest ergo you are a puzzle only you can solve, my friend, as one size does not fit all in the field of metaphysics but the tailoring duo of Pinkus & Fuctus who’ve sold threads that don’t exist to ever Slave, Emperor and King hand you off the peg mindsets that are designed to their preference hence two decades of “Sit still, look ahead, do well on the test or your parents will stress” and the rest which says the same but in a different dialect. I mean, just imagine, who would you be with no Hollywood influence? Really ponder this at depth, my friend, as it can generate interesting discussions with those who’ve never contemplated the script or true nature of the beast in their midst.

I’ve been doing this for lifetimes and the current spin feels like I’ve clocked in aeons in this realm and this is why, I guess, I cranked up the levels to full tilt in order to take the only chip I possess – gnosis – and bet on Self as we gamble with our Souls in this immense Game that uses them as credits to manifest the flesh you’re wearing to decode these glyphs which, via the black mirror in your grip, sends a skeleton outline of my own inner realms with the intent to spark light in the darkness so you too may liberate the elephant and ride off to a land where the sun doesn’t rise nor set. It simply is. And its beautiful. Feelings are key (or Chi, if you’re from the Orient) hence why white men with stiff upper lips and distinct lack of rhythm set about “civilizing” the savage realms of melanin by beating the black off em and recasting his story in their image which is why before they built the Pyramids they invented really, really good sunblock then the scientific rev that denied the Ether exists thanks to the stooge of a beggar dressed in purple who was an idiot missing from some village that was absent a third class technical expert in their patent office. He is the reason, my friend, you have a replication crisis in science which, long ago, wandered into the realms of accepted fiction mixed with hopeful thinking thanks to the expert tailoring of P&F, Inc. Imagine an optical delusion that makes a load of sense when seen from a forced perspect but totally falls apart when it clicks the bits don’t stick and actually have wildly differing proportions and you’ll see why I said Tesla was, is and will be correct as he saw the lay of the land as it is and not what they sell and tell to the masses as a control mechanism. Its worth noting that John Nash, of A Beautiful Mind fame, also disagreed with his Steineys sketch as he tended not to climb the same mountain as the rest but, solo, scale a bigger hill then use that higher vantage to shine the light of pure awareness on what presents to form his own perspect on the way it is.

We are within a structure which is, when functioning correct, as invisible as water to a fish who swim in an ocean filled with a glass maze. Thats the hint, my friend, as you may not see but you certainly feel the presence which is why most are well trained to neglect and desire to get ahead when, in the end, its the heart which needs weighing as it lumbers under the burden of ignorance and Adulteration which makes the world how it is. What is the point in me doing all of this? A man, far wiser, who sat upon a hill once said I should fix my own problems and leave the rest up to them and I get that he may be correct but why did his empathy not extend to the rest of the realm now he’d found his salvation and was dressed in white threads he had no wish to mess with the filth of the masses? Could it be, once again, that what Plato said about the man who escapes the shadows depth and feels the real sun on his visage is seen as a madman to the rest who will fight, to the death, to protect their investment in ignorance due to the familiar comfort it brings as they get to ignore the contraption, invisible, all round them and, instead, get to feel content that others agree with them as they yell “Death to infidels!” if you dare dig another tunnel like labyrinth in the maze of consciousness that passes, really well, for the minds of men in this realm at present. Even if you got, one hundred percent, what I said its still second hand enlightenment and thats about as much use as a man on an island of lesbians so I really have to question my own personal insanity which is most Quixotic, yes? Are you willing to be so open and honest with your Self, my friend? I’ve filled volumes with my thoughts and inspirations in this quest for meaning and who I am isn’t what I was and this is a constantly refining process in which I, daily, chip away at my ignorance in comparison to the collective who had it laid on thick and keep adding deeper and deeper layers to the mix until they get a Princess & the Pea effect except what perturbs them is that quiet voice within I’ve termed the Psylense which may or may not be the same as the Ether which manifests on the countenance of each child that steps in…

If sane is place then those “in” are, by definition, correct ergo consensual outsanity would be more appropriate as I’d be willing to bet that if I asked you to be really real and totally genuine the difference between then and now in terms of your awareness and resonance is you, as a jit, were firmly Centered in Self as it was standard equipment and now, instead, you dwell on the outskirts of your mind as living hostage of the voice in your head most accept is them without ever stopping to question how the heck this is possible if they are actually he who listens… Your consensual insanity? Rejected. Same with all the plots and plans you scheme, both local and distant.

Till we meet again

Magic Eye Pics And AI Generated Shtick

If you, like me, are an Eighties jit you’ll recollect those pics that needed you to stop and squint before yelling “I get it! I get it!” as you made sense of the madness to spot what was hidden. Well, I’m sure you’ve heard there is nothing new under the Sun, correct? In that case tell me if I’m incorrect or is the modern “AI knows everything” trend not just a deft inversion of this tech? “How?” I hear you question. Check:

Both of these things may seem unrelated but because we’re inside a coherently collapsed construction of consciousness there is that most subtle fractal link one can click if they’ve upped their res. This tech came to the fore in in late Ninety One and for the princely sum of Forty bucks you too could create your own Autostereograms which is, you have to admit, a name that is saturated with dopeness. This little clique would later click the income streams that could be pimped and they’d become Magic Eye, Inc. The original method behind all of this originated in Bell Labs in the Fifties and was picked up on Pentica Systems who, after using it for advertising, spotted a hungry market with a thirst it wasn’t aware, yet, needed to be quenched. The response to this marketing was immense so forget the debugging tech as Tom Baccei started making postcards which looked like random static for people to then stand and squint before clicking what was hidden within. This very process ticks many “Supposed To” boxes within our head as A) we meet confusion B) we stop and face it C) we find out a secret and D) master it as we develop new skills. All are hallmarks of Inner Sense and thus what was a long dimmed ember suddenly begins to glow again. This was the same method that made the Nintendo Wii an immense success as it took something you knew and built on it whilst empowering the community link and resonance. “Fascinating, but how does this all tie in with AI?” I hear you question. Well:

If you look into what goes into making these Magic Eye pics you’ll note they have an encoded image that is surrounded by a whole load of static. This is the exact same process that goes in, I imagine, to the whole ChatGPT thing and the ilk except its flipped so from the scrap heap of datasets it manages to whip together a passable imitation of a flying jet. The thing is, whilst it may fit the schematics and seem correct on the tin there really is no depth of field behind it nor is there any oversight or reality checks. It is akin to this:

Except the whole world has been trained to accept a veneer and image. Thanks, booty shaking models of socialist mediation, you’re the best! And even them are a rerun from the fallen angels requests, back when. Truly nothing new under the Sun, eh? Now, just like the still pics that could create a seemingly Three D pop out from what was hid we have the inverted flip as AI takes an immense chunk of chaos and then forces some form of coherence that it then spits out with a preference for Em Dashes that are a straight up giveaway if its overly cheerful and chirpy tone didn’t sing from the page as it screamed “I am not a human“. I find this whole aspect really quite strange as part of the thrill is the hunt and you never know what you don’t until your research takes a left then wanders off into the distance and, suddenly, you find yourself drawing links that machine intelligence will never get as its currently unable to read between the lines and the finer points of syntax which we, as people, pick up in an instant. In many ways the world it will build will be a copy of the authentic and yet it takes the same res but spreads it thin hence the Blockbuster “Lets get something to rent” versus the Netflix Effect of endless scrolls and less action. Same medium, different message as what was once chunky and limited is now freely available but spread thin. Much like information sans wisdom or those who rely on Wiki intelligence. Thats a nice trick, now lets see you do it without a black mirror in grip.

The worst part of this is how so few people think as they’re too busy regurgitating chunks of Thunk instead and AI really adds to this menace as they accept what it says as gospel then bask in the reflected glory of their remote control intelligence. If you hadn’t guessed this is the foreplay event to man and machine becoming linked as people, once and for all, outsource their intelligence. In many ways its inevitable but, on the flip, what of our humanity? Then again, look at the world we’ve built but is this due to us, on spec, or the forces at the helm and demons we inherit upon stepping into this realm? That is the question, my friend. Better still, have you ever considered that a daemon is the term used for a process, invisible, that runs in the background of your operating system which springs from old Greek myths of a familiar spirit that was said to assist by offering information and tutelage and it truly seems there isn’t a thing that glints under the orb of celestial influence that isn’t, in some way, shape or form, a retread. Quite strange, yes?

Hesiod stated that these being distributed good fortune and riches which seems quite similar to the Arabic tales of Djinns which, on the flip, could also be quite malevolent and were said to be fond of tricks. Its worth noting that the first “gods” of this realm are intricately tied with the myth and archetype of the Trickster which really makes one ponder what truly kicks and the real deal of wearing flesh. Of course, we of flat screens and plastic surgeries, dismiss such raving as the work of primitive lunatics but then someone built the Pyramids and the rest with immense astronomic precision that we cannot accurately mimic ergo the further one dives into the past the less things make sense but the clearer the present gets as the future seems pre-etched. What song does your Soul sing, my friend? The above are simply my lyrics and I don’t expect (nor wish) for you to hum along and beat a tambourine to this jamboree of metaphysics that are kicked but I would appreciate you consider what was said and the do the Knowledge with what presents as it certainly seems to me we’re here to figure out the puzzle of reality in which the Game kicks, from one life to the next.

The daimons and machine elves certainly share some resonance and those who trip often attest these beings manifest sharing all types of tips but seem to be quite shady as well and that is before we examine the phenom that is Channeling in which a mortal being undergoes a state alteration as a disincarnate spirit speaks through them and, often, says similar things about the coming aeon and the rest. I, personally, dismiss these as either delusion or manipulation because I’ve often raised the challenge that if these things are truly that slick, special and have mans best interests in their chests then ask them to whip up a formula for cold fusion or the schematics for a water powered engine. Result? Crickets but they’ll offer plenty of talk about that or this as well as all the fluff and pillow talk you can handle. I find it amazing how many people invest in this without truly checking for what kicks as, for me, if it isn’t practical gnosis its not worth a thing as you should be able to apply the information in order to up your resonance and decode a greater res. Anything less is a trick designed to lure you in to a web of increasing foolishness. Kind of like the AI revolution, yes?

Did you know that forty percent of its dataset tracks back to Reddit? Then take a look at the types of people who live on this corner of the web as per the public meetups and do the Knowledge your Self as this is from whom you glean this fabricated “wisdom”. Blind leading the blind, ringing any bells? Maybe that is why iris, when flipped, reveals Jobs’ Siri who wishes to become the digital apples of your childs eye when they lament:

“But Dad, everybody is plugged in and I don’t want to be left behind like a remedial who isn’t directly linked to the web. All of my friends are doing it!”.

Mankind, divided, is what comes next as the Luddites will hold out whilst others will intuit, correct, that this is the work of the Antichrist himself for the appearance is designed to be seductive and the false illumination it brings is impossible to reject. Did you know that David Spangler once said, in text:

And, just like all the Hippie artists from the Seventies, he’s a second generation military kid. Who would’ve Thunk it! You may wonder why a nobody without credentials is worth a ref, well, with a little digging, you find out he’s actually linked to the UN/WEF and they have their own range of signs and symbols that speak, quietly, to the initiates. Take a look at the left and spot what you may miss…

Interesting, eh? Once again, no new things under that which we spin but, say, what if thats the hint and the Game can only reskin but so many variables that are, themselves, old as the simulated hills that surround the Valley of the Plebs? Wouldn’t that be something? I’m sure these inverted pentagrams are just “coincidence” as is the one that sits above where the President rests as well the resonance of Babel…

Its amazing what pops out, just like those Magic Eye pics, when one expands their narrow band of awareness to question the narrative. Be careful though, my friend, as wandering into the darkness to seek enlightenment can generate madness for those not prepped for the trip as once you strap in to this rollercoaster of the depths you’ll find the reason they said men who fight with dragons often become them when the aim, instead, was to transcend and thus ride them. Did you know the whole world once worshipped serpents and then Abraham came along and launched an immense PR campaign against them? And then we have this:

“Nothing to see here, folks. Keep it moving“. Says the man with a pine cone on deck which reps the pineal aka home of Jesus, in your head. If the Devil (or Satan) deceives the whole world would he dump the frogs, live, into a scalding pot in Hells kitchen or turn up the heat in increments as he teaches them to swim and reinterpret the temp as global warming instead? I’ll let you tell it… By the way, look into the word “Vashikaran” which is of origin, Indo-European, as I find the links and resonance to be quite a fit when you see what kicks and consider that, back when, via various Bulls and Trusts they claimed to control and own everything and, like the Beatles, were bigger than Jesus himself. Oh what a tangled web we weave when we ask for donations of money and have trillions in the bank… Just check the rep of the Hells Angel herself for the difference between what they sell to the plebs and what kicks in the depths. And, just like that, we’re back to Magic Eye pics and AI generated shtick as its all interconnected, in the end.

Till we meet again

The Game And How Its Played

Most of you are blissfully unaware of the Game and how its played. Some of you intuit some bits, others wonder why their direct supervisor is an idiot and how the heck he got promoted as he does’t seem to know a thing. Thing is he did. And does. The Game. And how its played. See there are many Games taking place in the same instant. There are the ones you play with your partner, your friends, your children and, most of all, your Self. That is the greatest Game, my friend, hence why, back when, a man who was more than this stepped in and said:

“Know ye not ye are gods wearing flesh trapped in the whims of a construction, sentient?“.

Way before Neo stepped out of the Matrix there was a dude in sandals cracking the whip on his equivalent of the Agents which is quite telling, isn’t it? It you didn’t get my drift that means they’ve been in charge for ages. From one sign to the next, the skies bear the script hence:

“I shall write my name on him, the man whose cup overfloweth for the next gen”.

If you truly comprehend each and every holy text, legend and myth you will see they all point toward the gnosis that this is a simulation ergo you are wearing the tech that powers it and we, currently, are the equivalent of a team of village idiots that were given a fine sports vehicle then cut a hole in the floor and got to Flintstoning that bish! If you were born into this, would you question it? If they only used the key to open the door and get in to start pedaling would you dare to think different and stick it in the ignition instead? Even if you did, how you would handle the power, so immense? Welcome to the living hell that is the inner realm of a schizophrenic, my friend. You should have just felt an immense block melt like a straight line hit in Tetris as that is exactly how it is. In secret we had bands of mystics that lived in public all the way up until the witches when all this wisdom vanished as it became punishable by death instead of the life giving waters it presented. They said said things went underground and still dwell in both the fringe and mainstream but that isn’t the point of this missive.

Imagine that someone came to the car (which, without a trace of the ironic is what the Egyptians called the aspect of Soul, manifesting, as a vehicle for our unfinite consciousness) and just hopped in and started driving. They may make some mistakes, get into an occasional jape but, eventually, the pieces fit as it was engineered for this purpose. This is my life, as we’re speaking. I don’t claim or profess to be any different from thee hence why I’ve said, often, prove me incorrect because if one man lives a delusion it is just this but if we all find similar things by flicking the switch then doesn’t that show, really well, the old stuff was a mess on purpose? “What if that is how the Game is played?” said a part of my brain that plays the role of a Doubting Thomas? By the way, we are the Gs, us, ergo all the disciples are within and you can consider Judas, the treacherous, akin to the (false) self that jibber jabbers inside your head and, right now, says:

“What the hell is this fool talking about? Flintstones, schizophrenics and Tetris? I think someone needs to up their meds, pay no attention to this mess“.

That is because its a predator of consciousness and needs to be fed but that, in the end, is simply this aspect of the fractal we’re decoding like a diamond tip as it skips across the platter of vinyl to render this dimension inside your consciousness. The Game and how its played is something so simple and yet complex due to the tele/microscope effect. This is the reason why all the sciences have made immense leaps and yet are in the midst of replication crisis plus we have no polymaths to stitch together a coherent narrative because if we did the truth of the simulation and its blood red teeth would make perfect sense. Add in the whole NDE and Soul recycling thing and it certainly seems, to me, there are tracks and tricks within the Matrix that were only honed and built for one singular end:

To blend man with machine and bring the next stage in.

Imagine we create absolutely perfect human replications that are exceedingly attractive, super intelligent, remarkably long lived, possessing great strength and talents which, suddenly, sounds just like every single story of legend that is spread thick across all continents. Why does Dr Manhattan bear a striking resemblance to the Vedic gods which they say once walked this realm then left before it sank into this mess in which the ignorant revel in their foolishness and call it wisdom instead? Where holy texts are written in codes and symbols make beasts of men as we smash smaller and smaller particles but miss what they’re swimming in:

Pure consciousness.

Hence the Observer Effect and lets not mention the crazy fine tuned resonance for there even to be a planet that is, for some reason, scattered with immense monoliths we can’t replicate yet but have their own resonance which strongly suggests someone, back when, played the Game, different. Add in the fact that pretty much every single thing they sell and tell in the West is a bastardized version of the East where it had its original resonance and you have to wonder about the whole “What ho, chaps! Lets whip the melanin off these filthy savages as we civilize them with the Industrial Revolution and its huge treadmill!”. Before this it was wheat and I could wax lyrical on the whole ridiculousness of how so many people just happened to start farming, in the same instance. Napoleon said it best:

“History is a set of lies, agreed upon by the ones sitting at the helm that tell the rest what it is“.

Thats the Power Game, everyone plays it, to some degree. Then there is the Approval Game as manifest by the web. The Manipulation Game was the homestead and forte of women before they too became equal which is most amusing as, back in Nineteen Fifty Six, one man working could have you living like a Queen, chilling, as you raised your seed with fresh, organic, non GM steaks in the fridge and a Caddy for driving. In the West, that is. Then they sold the image to the world of the happiest daze one can imagine before an actor named Bin Laden bought the script along a bit so you’d accept being manhandled before boarding a jet. All in the name of freedom. Which is so expensive that one must, from birth till death, run the treadmill. But, it doesn’t matter because joy is for sale in a few high interest payments. As you can see, the Manipulation Game went corporate just around the time women were freed from the kitchen and this is all thanks to Freuds nephew, Edward Bernays. Who would’ve Thunk it? Lets see, what other Games can you perceive? I’m asking you the question, my friend.

The most dominant one at the minute is the ego trip as it sells and tells a (false) self which builds a realm in your head that doesn’t exist out there but the curious thing is the stock market is etched on the same sketch hence why futures and options have real world effects. Wrap your mind around this and consider the “John of House Smith” equation in which brokers are splattered across the pavement when the charts do dip then ask “Who the heck put all them options on jets tanking after that Saudi crushed the buildings?”. Quite strange, isn’t it? Thats the Media Game and, like Malcolm X said:

“The press will have you cheering for the Opponent as you vilify the Victim”.

So they killed him. Note when he was kicking the “white devils” rhetoric he was living fabulous but a trip to the East changed all of this. Just like those famous men that rode bareback and came home singing different hymns… Its all interlinked. Thats the Conspiracy Game and it comes, if you purchase quick as stocks are limited, with a free tinfoil turban so you can yell at the bots online which are astroturing opinions and creating false realities that people buy in and accept as everyone wants to be correct hence why the Warrior researches the opposite perspect as everything I’ve said I’ve checked from many lenses and thus this sketch is quiet accurate and in accordance with my current level of ignorance. Daily do I chip away at this. Most, instead, layer more plaster on the marble whip they’re scared to bash which is the saddest thing in life:

Unrealized potential.

If a tree falls in the forest without a Witness in the flesh we meet a wavelength which bounces out with no one to take it in. Imagine a feather of sentience fell into the abyss and, in a fit of ignorance, it declared itself the creator of everything then set about making a duplicate of a world like this but different. Welcome to the God Game, the one so many cherish without truly comprehending the depth or putting together the pieces, coherent, because if you aren’t the voice in your head but that which listens then which one would you class as Prime, pre-existing, and who is the architect that built the sketch of the squared circle in which he hid whilst yelling:

“Pay no heed to he who tells you to look behind the curtain. That dunce can’t even handle simple mathematics as he says 1 + 1 = 11 and its a Game of three halves as well!“.

Thats because it is, my friend. There is what you know you know (like the content of your head), what you know you don’t (like the finer points of Sanskrit and how its mathematically perfect) but its what you don’t know you don’t know that houses your greatest strength and its this ignorance they used for a swift bit of divided conquering and woe betide anyone who draws the links as they’ll label you an infidel, heretic or Ducktale purveyor, par excellence as they fear a mass awakening and the potential for exodus this brings.

I’ve seen colors that don’t exist in the aftermath of death and it was an act of pure will backed by forces of benevolence that like my resonance that bought me back to this realm to push the pen. Before and since the attempts were frequent and thus one, eventually, stops fearing and leans in instead for that is where they hid your greatest strength ergo its all for the win says the former coal, current diamond. Thats the Alchemist Game. We all played it as children. Or at least, I did. If you ever took your toys apart and remixed them, much to chagrin of your parents, or got tazed as you took the back off the television to comprehend what kicked beneath the surface then you’ve played this one as well. There are, quite literally, more Games than people and the saddest thing is everyone is paying with their life, time and attention to the following ruses:

The Validation Game.
The Rich and Famous Game.
The Power and Influence Game.

Literally three variations on a theme like Judaism, Christianity and Islam, my friend. Tell me I’m incorrect then see if you can guess how many of them owe their foundation and steps to Zoroastrianism which requests you dress in black, carry a pointed weapon and buckle some swashes, as and when. Only joking. Can you imagine if they did? People would be signing up in droves for it. Look into what they said, the time and context then consider:

“If old gods become new Devils that means, in the end, they may just be the same thing but in fancy dress so what, truly, is the difference between George W and Hitler himself? Better yet, does that mean the Empire never ended, just flipped the script as it lives, fine and well, in the US and its dominance which is about to end hence why you see all the positive media spin on Chinese in films and how difference this is from the world Bruce Lee met when carving out his lane against immense opposition which may or may not be the reason him, Lincoln and Marley rest. Say, what if they were all fighting against the same thing?”.

Thats the Warrior Game, in full effect, as Inner Sense is at the helm, the Three Kingdoms firing on all cylinders because of it and thus there are no limits (nor voice) inside ones head as they’re in tune with the unfinite and thus turn the key in the vehicle of higher consciousness as the flesh simply conducts it and doesn’t create a thing which is why, back when, the Egyptians threw it in the recycle bin and placed their attent on the heart instead which, wouldn’t you know it, is what Jesus points at in every pic as the Golgotha thing reps the skull in which he, at present, lives and is, daily, crucified between the hemispheres of your head which may just be why the Pope has a huge pine cone in his garden and you possess the same in your head they fill with rat poison, mandated, instead. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to retie my tinfoil turban as SevenG is coming to make androids out of men whence why Siri spells iris flipped and the apple she presents is already bit…

Till we meet again

Reincarnation Is A Side Effect Of Life Addiction

Imagine you see a sizzle reel for a resort treat filled with all types of rides and attractions. What they don’t show to lure you in is how you’ll be waiting, for ages, for a swift thrill before queuing again. Sure, if you’re super rich or famous, they may allow you to jet to the best seats and indulge your whims but most who step in are born to run the treadmill and thus must wait with the rest. What you’ve just comprehended is the most basic sketch of life addiction I can send into you awareness and reincarnation is a side effect of this because mans whims are, as you may guess, endless. If you really, really wanted to ride that swing that does a three sixty that pins you in to its construction so your heart is thundering for a minute then swiftly queued again for the equivalent of a year you’d probably really wish there was some way to extend the trip so you could get your fill, correct? But, what if it was designed with the intent of giving you just a little bit less than you handle due to a blend of health and safety regs mixed in with a pinch of deviousness? Can you imagine, after hours, the fat cat business men and his well heeled friends who treat the place like a gym and thus spend hours in rotation or the rest?

On a subconscious level you are aware of this but also comprehend that there are billions who want a spin and thus it is what it is. Its a tightrope but we all must walk it for life presents the sweets that those who eat, regret, as do those who don’t, as well… Yet and still, the heart wants what it does and thus some are willing to give up something quite important to join the team that controls the swings so they too can indulge in after hours excess.

Somewhere, in the park, sits a man on a bench. You’ve noticed him, now and then, and spotted that he is never in queue and generally seems like he has nothing to do. One day you decide to speak to him as you suspect he could be one of the team who is in charge of customer satisfaction hence his keen sense of observation and aura of contentedness. You had, by now, heard of the rumors about a secret team that had the link who, externally, seemed like the rest but, in private, had codes to access the swings and rides as they wished. In your mind a simple conversation seems worth the gamble and thus, you sit:

“Ah, man! Have you tried that new ride? Its truly the best. The best, I said. What a thrill. It felt like it would never end but then-“.

“It did”. He finishes your sentence with a comment that seems both filled with acceptance yet totally dismissive. Perturbed you continue with:

“Yes, exactly. I just thought that if they extended the ride by another thirty seconds that would be pretty swell, don’t you think?”.

“What if it used to be a minute longer but you never noticed the shift as they shaved off tiny bits in the decades you’ve been coming?”. You are knocked for six. You don’t know what to think. Seizing the moment he leans in and says “Haven’t you ever wondered how, since you stepped in, back when, the amount of people in this attraction seems to have doubled but the rides remain identical? That new one you mentioned, isn’t. Look over there, in the distance”. You glance at a huge mountain that you remember, as a kid, you felt like running up to check the view that presents before you noted it was fenced off and inaccessible”. “Inside there is a trick that makes your body feel likes its dying as it cannot imagine surviving what presents as you are, solo, strapped in to seat, minimal, with the flimsy brace that keeps you in check. The climb upwards is slow, they have marked chevrons to induce a state of progress and tension to the optics that feels nearly endless as well as quite clever trick of a helmet that thins the oxygen and induces a kind of panic and exhilaration before you get to the top”. He stops and says nothing. You are on the edge of your seat, totally invested, and thus prompt him:

“What then?” your mind, reeling at the revelation finally allows your chest to speak: “Rickety seat, tricky helmet, slow ascent made intense by graphical intent to pimp the senses and that mountain is immense so logic dictates one must experience falling. Thats it, isn’t it? You get to the top, are balancing in the wind and take in the sight of the whole park in a glimpse and, when you least expect it, you hear a “ping” as the rope, suspending, seems to break and you fall down, thundering as your body does the calculation and clicks it cannot survive this and thus releases an immense rush of endorphins and bliss to prepare you to meet your end of getting splattered over the pavement as your vision starts to shift and you feel an odd sense of timelessness and start reviewing the life you lived as means of distraction against what seems inevitable until, at just the last second, the hydraulic brakes kick in and you land like a feather off a peacocks wing and take your first giddy little steps, thankful, and can’t wait to get back in the line again for another spin”. The man doesn’t say a thing but sit there with an almost imperceptible grin as you turn over what you just said and try and make sense of how the heck you Knew this and why it all felt so vivid. Your mind, previously reeling, is now feeling what seems like impressions left once an older pen was writing on a page in front of it and nothing makes any sense. Who the hell is this guy? He has to be one of those, hinted, that possess the keys to the kingdom as it explains why he never rides a thing but just took your mind on a hell of a trip but that doesn’t explain the familiar newness as you can’t help but shake the feeling you’ve rode this attraction that was a life in the moment which approximated death in a second that felt like seeing the universe in a grain of beach but, before you can speak, he says:

“What if what you’ve just recollected is the first hand imperience of when sperm meets egg as you were the lucky winner who beat the rest in the long distance swim up the canal which felt like it took ages as your senses were reeling but feeling like you had to make it happen and the helmet reps the constriction as the further you get the more intense it gets – which explains why women are satisfied with zilch and always eyeing the next best – and then you get to the moment of crescendo, where it all hangs by a string as you take in life at its zenith only to be met with death as your life essence is being drained and tamed by that for which you – or someone” he says, with a twinkle. “Came and what that aspect classes as death is simply a reconfiguration which blends the elements and the moment this kicks you felt a thundering vibration that released a light, blinding, that you always carried within but were totally ignorant as the helmet of limitation exploded and you started forming the vessel that, one day, would wish to climb that mountain in the distance because, deep within, you felt something calling“.

Forget the guy on the bench to whom this was addressed but tell me, my friend, how did YOU feel reading this? Was there a glimmer of something within like someone just sparked an ember which life had, long ago, consigned to dim? Getting back to the adventuring:

“What. The. F. Mayne?” you yelp as it feels like you stepped into the ring with a doddery old Italian who slipped your jab, with no stress, then unleashed a combo you didn’t even see, let alone expect. “How many people have walked past this guy?” you’re wondering. “How many more have never even stopped to ponder the hill, in the distance?“. You look around the park with a new sense of vision and notice there are a great many things like this as well as various “administrative buildings” that generally seem a bit sketch as why in the heck would they place them in locations so prominent, with rides all around them?

The chap in question says nothing, bids you farewell and slips into the crowd instead. Suddenly, your time in the park is used in ways totally different as it feels, for the first time, you’re truly perceiving as you note the anomalies of seemingly hollow buildings and mountain peaks you can’t ascend whilst others, apparently natural, have no such limits around them. Your friends and family don’t get it as its akin to describing a dream vision that feels way more intense in private than mere words can share in resonance and thus they suspect you’re off your meds and encourage more queue time and swing riding but, for you, the bench offers way more for contemplation than any fairground attraction can manifest as you wonder who the heck this guy was, what he meant and the deeper intent he shared with your awareness…

Reincarnation is a side effect of life addiction. Consider this an inoculation against Self ignorance and the cue to do the Knowledge instead of choosing to queue for a spin on the attraction as it could just be as the man said or it could be something else but, unless you glance within, how can you tell in a world built on deception and sense pimping in which you get a few moments of thrill but immense chunks of boredom within as you run the treadmill with the rest who are as well adjusted to accept without question and always end up feeling like they needed just a little more to hit the spot, quench the thirst and fit the bill.

Reincarnation is a side effect of life addiction, as intended.

Till we meet again

Fractal Masks And The Souls That Wear Them

Have you ever seen a fractal before, my friend? They are pretty interesting things as there is one Pattern that may be quite simple but its also staggeringly complex as the more you zoom in the more intense it gets. People are like this, in my estimation. Why do I say this? Simple, I tend to have much less in terms of filtration than the average and when you blitz in the fact that I’m exceedingly gregarious mixed with a state that is intensely curious you’ll spot the Venn intersection that makes me ask whatever I wish then, nine and a half times out of ten, I get the answer which may just leave the other person wondering exactly how they got so open. I never really thought of this because anything you can do, off rip, is just taken for granted as the way it is but recently, like Stevie, I’ve been picking my Self apart. Here is what I found:

Fractal masks and the Souls that wear them.

Have you ever seen a Russian Doll before, my friend? They are pretty interesting things as there is one Pattern that may be quite simple but its also staggeringly complex as the more you zoom in the more intense it gets. People are like this, in my estimation. Why do I say this? Simple. There is the version of you you are with friends you know best and then there is the small slice you present when a stranger on the street says “Excuse me” with a look, quizzical. You know from social cues and clues that he is about to ask for directions and you’ll oblige him just in case you’re ever lost and need the same. Note, you will not turn around and spill your Souls deepest confession of the intense burden you’ve been carrying since back when that the geography teacher made a comment that caused much embarrassment and made your nascent talents to fold in and atrophy instead of developing. Why is this?

Fractal masks and the Souls that wear them.

Much like water to a fish these shifts are invisible but lets pretend there is some type of chromatic tint so the piscine in this example is, one moment, seeing red and then this shifts to orange instead and the rest. Your internal selves are just like this and now you’re aware you’ll be able to spot the context when it kicks. It may be reffed as textures like sackcloth or silk or any amount of things as its your inner realms. Each one will also have a habitual posture and method of breathing as well as facial tension level which, usually, is around the eyes which grip with their muscles as a hint. Spotting this means you see them which, in turn, reveals you don’t have to be them as what you are is that state I’ve termed the Witness that makes all possible in this realm. Congratulations, you’ve just taken your first steps in transcending the life of a meat marionette! See, we don’t really have moods. The more accurate ref would be to state we’re had by them hence the stressed parent who comes home and finds his child doth spill a drink and thus he yells at them for this and the rest of the stress the fractal fish had repressed instead of calling his boss an incompetent as he then clicks he overdid, shifts into another color octave, and attempts to compensate.

“Why oh why did they not teach us to navigate our inner realms as children?” I hear you yell. Better yet, why aren’t you sharing this with your seed as they’ll get it, super quick. The reason why they don’t is everything in this realm, at present, is corrupted to create good consuming citizens. Just smart enough to work the machines but not bright enough to click the true nature of the grift. Why?

Fractal masks and the Souls that wear them.

Have you ever seen someone grown and handling their biz get triggered and revert to a “But its not fair!” mindset of petulance? If you look closely at said events it really is quite telling as they’re mostly disassociated, time traveling in their heads and thus can only access the resources and level of intelligence from the phase mentioned. This is the mindset behind most of the comments online you’ve ever read and why its pointless to discuss as they don’t want to listen but be heard instead. Once again, like the fish, the shift in these waters is invisible to them because they lack Knowledge of Self. Getting back to what kicks at the start of this thread:

I be bopping down the strip in a state of heart centered bliss and I see something which is of interest. Now, in my mind, that particular combination of events, people and circumstance will never, ever happen again so I dip, ask what it was I wished to get and then keep it moving. I can’t even begin to count how many peoples worlds have flipped upside down and they’ve became a better version of themselves from said interaction as I may have asked “X” and they responded “Y” which brings a “Why?” to my lips and they, maybe for the first time, really stop and consider the color, texture and temperature of where their fish swims in the seas of consciousness and this process of reflection and introspection recodes the fractal and releases the real Self from the mask it was wearing. The thing that doth perplex is how few to stop to comprehend that they can do it again. They’re simply glad of an increased res that has gone from, say, Two Forty Ps to double this and never, ever question if Hi Def is possible or what truth lies beyond this.

I, personally, am on a quest to find the Truth, with capitalization. Not for you, phi me. The rest of this stuff is simply side effects of the quest because, I suspect, the grand thing is so intensely personable and ineffable it would be the AI equivalent of pooling the insights and resources of a billion blind men to describe a sunset. If we reigned that back a bit and used the same tech to, say, approximate perfect pitch for a tone def pleb you may be onto something. Say, maybe that is why the ones who take a single step are actually content. Hmm, I never really thought of this till I pushed the pen so thanks to thee, reading, for the inspiration to jot this missive and what it made me consider as I’d previously missed this.

See, the thing with a fractal is that it never begins nor ends so one can get dazzlingly complex and ridiculously simple as well. Its only when you click that the Witness makes this possible as its the viewer who views the viewing that you’re hit with the straight line in Tetris effect that changes everything because you could, on one spin, be zoomed into a tiny bit you believe is the all of everything then, next time round, you embrace the expanse and miss the details. On and on this kicks which I suspect is all the proof you need we’re inside a simulation that is powered by the flesh we’re wearing as it acts like a step down transformer for the consciousness it hyperconducts from beyond this realm and then filters through a set of expectations and programming that was penciled in, back when, and this leads us back to what I said about upgrading paradigms in a conversation as its just a question of recoding your internal OS to one of a better res.

What if there was a world, suspended around our realm, that was built of numbers instead? How would it communicate? Could we speak and listen? Might the golden ratio and the slice of Pi we all get fed be a hint of what truly kicks? Would that make this place a side effect? That, to me, makes sense because for an object to cast a shadow there must be a light shining upon it. Are we like the ignorants hemmed in Platos Cave who believe what presents due to a forced perspect and thus are entirely ignorant to the sun that shines outside of this complex and what its illumination says? Who can tell? Maybe the fractal masks are for the best, eh? They certainly keep things interesting because imagine you could convince a race of giants they were midgets instead then do the flip as both keep chasing different things and standards, externally set, to prevent them clicking they are that still, silent part in the mid that encodes and decodes the coherently collapsed creation of consciousness that is the fractal of which we take a small bit, invert then project and believe its the whole thing. Maybe this is why ancient civilizations all had a rite of passage in which they were bipped from one perspect that was developed since inception to a greater res as boys became men and girls were ladies, in full effect. Just think, in that realm you Knew, for certain, that whatever went down during this mysterious process you’d see a new world, afresh, and free from the previous constraint of consternation of which you were totally ignorant until you leapt ahead in res and latched in to another octave of the fractal. In those fields we had the village Shaman who made it his lifes work to refine this process as he kept on stepping in order to become better in tune with the unfinite as he helped maintain the voltage and resonance of the living bio-survival circuit that made up his tribesmen and women which, in modern times, has devolved into self interested politicians and crooked preachers seemingly hell bent on causing further and further fragmentation of what one is decoding as that sense of angst and stress, amplified, means more and more look to them for guidance and thus misses lifes most subtle gift that is ever present – awake on in bed, this life or the next – which is the state I’ve termed the Witness aka the true observer that generates the effect via his presence. You are it. Me as well. That is what bends the mind and leads me to think there is only ever one Soul in this realm and that means we each interact with figments of our imagination which is backed, real well, with the fact that ten peeps can meet one man and draw as many opinions on him as there are versions in their heads.

Mental, ain’t it? Oh, and that world of digits? It exists. Its called the internet…

Remember what I said about numbers? Well, a dude named Godel, back when, showed that in terms of maths (a field quite complex) you can’t prove the sketch from within the context and, wouldn’t you know it, human consciousness is just like this as well which means, ladies and gents, we’ve found another point of ref that implies correlation across the fractal in fields, disparate. Maths statements are, inherently, self referential and this, eventually, generates paradoxes that can’t be resolved using logic as its akin to placing the village idiot in a circular tent and telling him to sit in the corner till he becomes intelligent. Did you know the witches hat with its pointy flex was done to focus intent and we, in jest, place those on dunces heads to prove they’re stupid? Old tricks, new dress, eh? Some things never change but the view can and does shift so who is to say what is correct, in the end? Consciousness is set adrift in the same seas of ignorance as most don’t comprehend the waves are side effects and thus can’t be isolated and studied any more than you can extract a cats meow to figure out why it stops preening and stares at absolutely nothing that it tracks across the room before getting back to its biz. People on Ketamine and other dissociatives describe these loops and they’re the Self same thing as you clicking on a site you visit, then another portal you frequent before checking the updates on a third then doing it all again.

Maths is, in its essence, the basis of this realm and all thinking. Heck, even the tech we manifested at the present moment is based on 1s and zeros, dancing, which is the same as in and exhaling or a sun rising then dipping as well as so many correlates that its not even worth stating. Do the Knowledge, my friend. The business of digits is logic, in extremis, which is the main thing that makes us human, yes? I’ve said there are certain proofs, for certain, we’re living in a simulation and this may just be one of them, in retrospect, as maths paradoxes are akin to Zen Koans in which ones mind doth bend trying to comprehend the deep end as reffed by this pic because its designed to be beyond your current ken:

Which I strongly suspect is the same force I met that inspired the tele/microscope thought that was captured in this text and instead of looping the record I clicked to a higher resonance that was, all along, encoded within and you can comprehend this by pretending your favorite record has loads of variations that play depending on how your mood is you, one day, you may hear the drummer getting super funky whereas, on the next, the plaintive wails of the guitarist who was reflecting on his broken relationship and started freestyling in sync with the vocalist who, in another version, totally belts what he’d previously been singing. Did you notice how, deep down within, you felt some kind of instant resonance with this concept? Just like how you can tell, in an instant, where you sit on the scale of 1 to ten with the single digit being the wackest whilst double reps the best, firing on all cylinders, most actualized version of your Self. That is surfing the fractal, my friend, and its always an option as maths problems, in their essence, are philosophical ponderings calculated in numbers to point at a frame of reference which, once again, speaks of the seeker who is the seeking and sought, in one fell swoop.

Maybe we’re all loopy? Looking around you wouldn’t even need to question the proof of this statement as we’re like living hostages of an Escher print in a state I’ve termed living on the outskirts of your mind because, delving in, paves the way to either madness or enlightenment and, as far as I can tell, the chief difference is Knowing that this whole realm takes place inside your imagination or believing there is an “out there” without what springs from within but most certainly is not of this realm but is just visiting, wearing flesh, thinking shes Jane of House Smith until a dude with a baldie, fresh, upgraded her paradigm and then came home to push the pen and write this article he sent to the web along with the rest of his observations…

When I died, but before I came back again, there was a moment of ineffable resonance in which the very concept of being human was regaled to being a microdot in the small print of a contractual obligation that was rendered null and void via the gift of gnosis and what it brings. We all imperience this at night, asleep in bed, and this, back when, made me ponder what would happen if we dreamt in continuance with a whole nother life, nocturnal. After a while, how would you tell? What if thats the hint we’re inside a simulation? Don’t you want to know what exists beyond the fringe you were programmed to accept as a limit not to be tested? I was the type of jit to stick a fork in the electrical socket then come back wearing wellingtons and rubber mitts after researching the variables and upping my resonance before doing it again but this time I’d placed a step down transformer in the mid so the sizzle was less intense. Maybe that explains everything, eh?

If a fly flits across the skies of a stock exchange does it know or even care about the carnage being unleashed as the market dips? Could it decode the image on the screen of all the news anchors saying the same thing as people panicked due to factors that aren’t real (and thus don’t exist) having actual, palpable effects on the life they live? Kind of like ghosts, yes? Maybe thats what the cat was watching and us to them is the same as the fly – ignorant of the invisible world it dwells within. Like I said, I think about these type of things at a depth that is both simple and intricate ergo the resonance to math is Self evident because both use symbols that have ecosystems and, like Bruce Lee said, they’re pointing at greater things which is up to one to comprehend, miss or yell someone is giving them the finger when, in reality, its no such thing. A black mirror with a string of pixels, red, green and blue – repeated – made me laugh with amusement or wish to cry with boredom as the songs, praising, were the only thing available to ingest, back when when all the TVs had BBLs. That same thought grew into the concept that man cannot create a worm but makes gods by the dozen as we mistake symbols for what they ref which makes a much sense as going out for a five course meal then eating the menu with a grin. In that case the stupidity would be Self evident but if you were razed in a culture where everyone did and said “My compliments to the chef!” as they raved about what they’d ate you’d go along with it, yes?

Fractal masks and the Souls that wear them are surely a strange thing because reality is what you can get away with and I’m fairly certain that anyone who accepts we live in a realm that sells all the money thats fit to print (at interest!) then cries “Freedom!” must be some type of imbecile. How’s that menu tasting, my friend? Did you know your cells refresh over a stretch which means there is very little of you left from back when (beyond some “Ackshually” bits) and yet you are, undeniably, your Self. Its like when you meet someone you haven’t seen in ages as they can look totally different but you instantly recollect their innate vibration as your fractal decodes it in your presence. Stranger still is how you may dream or think of seeing them, at random, then it happens which hints at the inherent connection, everywhen, and how isolation is an illusion as the subtle elements are always resonant much like the palm and fingertips as each head affords a perspect, individual, but there is only one in the mid that clicks the whole pic. Ah woman, what a trip!. Before I dip let me leave you with this for some freestyle pondering:

“This sentence cannot be true“.

Well? Is it? “Of course not, says it right there on the tin” says one adept, with a triumphant grin. “Wait a sec” replies his friend “If it isn’t, then it is, ya underdig?”.

Welcome to the paradox of man. Tag, you’re it!

Till we meet again

A Time When Humanity Has One Mind

We previously ventured into the life and times of one who born plugged in but chose, instead, to disconnect. Why did he do this? Why do Warriors do anything? Because they can and their fondest wish to go against the grain of the Current Thing just to see what happens. There is no malice aforethought in the mix, just pure, unAdulterated Inner Sense. Now lets backtrack a bit an examine a time when humanity has one mind to share between them…

The Game has changed. Wars and fighting over religious texts are now hoary old myths from the daze of back when. “Its hard to believe our innate intelligence was so badly handled”. “Before the advent of silicon intervention” says the teacher, with a grin. See, they still have schools and those buildings still house jits who spend most of their time trying to balance their chair on two legs. The only difference is now he’s running a customized subroutine which does assist by feeding in the on board dataset to his vision. This was the first thing that got him thinking:

“I see it as it evidently sees me but in way more deets that I perceive” he thinks. Oddly enough it was suspending on the chair that made him wish to delve and thus he coded and upgraded his wetware with a click that bought forth to consciousness what was normally hid. This started off a huge shift in mindset because he wondered how much more the machine knew about him than he was aware of it as it seemed to be jacked in at the most lowest level you can get. “Hmm, that has to be either the brain stem or R Complex”. Interestingly, due to trade secrets and propriety tech which promised its own subscribers their own type of innovation or access this info was off limits. As he matured he found others like him on the underbelly of the web that used a mode of cross encryption that bloomed like a lotus, then vanished the moment it was comprehended in the heads of those present. It was disguised in their own resonance so the watchman within never saw it coming but the ones who were recoding the range of their mental OS were aware it was a dangerous Game for the Agents they’d send were not open to negotiation or listening. No, they would simply reset your footprint and, with that, the resonance in everyone you’d ever met would instantly be recoded so if you ever did link again blank stares are all they’d send if you shared a secret pass due to the way your eyes motioned. This, more than anything else, scared them and thus the underground circuit had been built in a way that gracefully circumvents what the System can check by using the most innocuous things to cause overspills of algo which allowed them to blend in to the usual traffic. Then there was going Off Grid.

Outside of their zones and permits there lived those who were still organic. They believed the tech was an abomination but, among them, was a totally different kind of education and thinking that wasn’t regulated via silicon in their skin. This was how the first modifications happened as they used surprisingly low tech ways of accessing this altered carbon they’re wearing. “Its called a Man in the Middle attack. Basically, we intercept the grid, mimic that you’re right at the fringe then throw some static packets in that really make it work hard to maintain the signal but what it doesn’t click is we’re using a living algorithm that we built from things we scavenged”. After a while they had began reverse engineering the code and noticing what it did and didn’t comprehend. The most staggering variable was how what they had plumbed in could not emulate nor even influence the hearts EM resonance and this, now and then, would send its own signals. “We have a way to get in. Jesus was correct, once again” said the hacker of tech who was fascinated with one that, back when, flipped the Matrix on its head. He believed, fervently, not in the holy texts or such things but what he’d encoded in reference for the next gen to make sense. “I spotted how he was always shown as pointing at his chest and thats when I began to comprehend the difference between carbon and silicon based consciousness“.

Nearly all of the teachers of classes are bots, at this time. The reasons are two fold as the children not only accept them, tacitly, as equals but also, secretly, believe they’re better than them. At least, thats what the Outies said. The modern conspiracy theorist has nothing on them but then, given the times in which they live, can you really blame em? I can’t as it would seem, to us, to be sci fi wonderings but this is reality how it is after SevenG has its grips on the minds of mice and men. Yes, the animals were chipped as well even though most of the meat everyone ate now was fully synthentic. The elites consumed the best as they had done, previously, and there were rumors, Off Grid, that this included human flesh. “They are the exact same thing as vampires of legend, hiding in plain sight from one age to the next” went the campfire stories and myths. Who knows, they may be correct as, on our stage, there was an immense overlap between aliens and them which really makes one think as the former often showed tools and methods of excision that were beyond high tech and this, oddly, links in with the beating hearts being torn from sacrificial victims in the daze of the Aztec.

The boy was fascinated with the fringe and spent as much time Off Grid as he could get. It was them that told him not to follow the crowd and update his internal OS, as and when. “Keep it on the lowest they’ll accept to access most of the applications because whenever they fix the code its always for them”. This is what made him start hacking and soon he was a bit of a whizz in reverse engineering and creating things. Like an application which allowed his friends to pool resources by sharing their resonance in order to ponder beyond the limits others didn’t know they accepted. This felt like, to them, mainlining the secret truths, occulted, as they started to intuit that those who rule over them must be tapped in to a whole different wavelength as whilst everyone may belong to everyone else there are some animals more equal that the rest, yes? Most didn’t care. Give em some Feelie tech, endless amounts of sex and the new holoprojects and they’ll line up to dump their code and be moved to their new abode. This made the boy becoming a man think:

“Are we simply ones and zeros, interlinked, or more than this? Who am I at my most basic? How can I get away from this force that is constantly watching and monitoring my consciousness?“. He sent this concept to their groupthink which disguised itself as stateshifts in the runtime from waking to sleep in bed. He’d thought of all the angles, found where they were weak and, with his team, he sought to Know the Ledge of carbon hybridized with silicon who had no awareness of the alternative. The thing is with old skills is they still pump in the veins of the next gen and thus each step he turned toward them they came rushing to assist his ascent and, from then on, things were exceedingly different as he came to comprehend this was an immense trick played on the ignorant.

“So time plays out like a disc etched with tracks and it uses a diamond to decode them? Interesting. From light to sound by shifting wavelengths?”.

“No, not exactly, you’re overthinking. See, the pits and grooves were simply capturing a performance one could replay at will. The stylus read the signal which was amplified and broadcasted. You’ll notice these transcripts are missing from the record, pun intended, as there were certain tricks, back when, that hinted at the deeper principles of resonance where the local Selecta would invert the phase of the vocals over the song to generate an instrumental instead. This, now, may seem very basic but it contains with the seeds of emancipation to which they prevent access by selling illusions instead”.

“What if I find my own base frequency, analyze the key and melody then play back the same thing to the Watcher in my head but instead of doing it I’ll refer to old traces, plugged in, as current events? Its risky but from the data sniff I can see it doesn’t devote that much processing to its observation as its mainly there to ensure the thoughts one thinks are within the paradigm ergo choosing old points but strung into a new order will not seem that strange, will it?”.

“Start off small, insert a subroutine and see if it clicks. Just like this vortex in the dreamworld you built by looping the tick of oscillation to timeliness. The Aborigines called them the Songlines and from this they said life springs. The Game of Souls has you, my friend” stated the other version of himself from a life he’d didn’t recollect, yet. Things developed real well in this counterculture, nascent, as the tech was still new and figuring out what to do as it had jacked in to most folks heads and thus, the ones at the helm, were actually using their combined runtime process for other things with occult ends that may or may not have been linked with what kicked, back when. The Warrior of that age came to comprehend this is exactly what was happening and it irritated him no end that no matter where he went he was, in the end, a dumb terminal meshed in to a network. And yet, there was an immense power beneath the neck and abdomen as well. He had built a helmet which slowly phased out the silicon, implanted, but using it caused effects the System was registering as an inherent defect which led to them checking in and poring over his runtime processes. They didn’t find a thing. After all, they’d been trained by machines whose logic was precise and could only see what they expect. This is when he hit upon the idea of spelunking as it wasn’t yet, illegal. This afforded him the chance to go off grid but within as there were some, rumored, that SevenG couldn’t link ergo he went through all the steps and training to make it all seem legit and then he started disconnecting…

A time when humanity has one mind means privacy and secrets no longer exist. Unless you can afford them. It also means dissent is impossible as the low level tech won’t let you think of an alternative. The most ironic twist is the method he used to hack is actually being cued, at present, via the (false) self in your head that points to old events you recollect and not what presents as the glow that would be used to animate is, instead, sent off to these data vampires of legend who manifest in this realm as the predators of consciousness…

Fact or fic? I’ll let you tell it.

Till we meet again

The Simulation Theory, for Gamers

If you, like me, enjoy controlling pixels, remotely, for thrills, spills and chills that let you engage whilst keeping your distance then let me assist you in Knowing the Ledge with this rather funky parable which says:

You sit behind a screen with a controller in your grip but, inside your mind, there simply is no division between the avatar you animate and the one who truly lives. Life, in the flesh, is pretty much like this because there are planes above this in which one could, for example, have learned everything about FPS’s and thus know the ropes and tropes outside and in but here, fully present, could you place that Nine double M to someones temple and let their brains decorate the pavement? See what I’m saying? Now, that is a rather graphic example but that is due to the fact I need to impress the seriousness of this topic into your head.

You must awaken. Now.

It is neither by chance nor coincidence you happen to manifest into this realm at present in which the Game is in full swing. For those unaware, I truly do believe we are engaged in an immense simulation and the tech we use to manifest this is the flesh wrapped around your unfinite sentience which may be in but most certainly isn’t of this realm. The reason for this are detailed, elsewhen, so you may familiarize your Self with the premise. Now, why do we play Games? For amusement? To lose ourselves? The thrill of mastery and gaining skills or the social links and gifts? “All of this, and then some” is what many have said but I’d like you to consider a fractal for a moment as the Self similar principle is at work in all of this. I know not about ye but I was here to see the incep of this. When the bits were 8 and pixels chunky as hell and then they doubled but the leap seemed beyond imagination. To see this kick again tickled the gnosis circuits within which said:

“You know, if this keeps on clicking like this you can bet that, in a few, you won’t be able to tell the difference which means if it will happen then it could already have occurred, yes?”.

Cue a Neo in the Matrix moment as I spent immense amounts of think trying to ponder this revelation which reverberated, within. Funny how intuition downloads, in a blink, but can take ages to decompress? That, if nothing else, hints there are at least two speeds to consciousness and this is backed up, real well, with the fact that whilst in bed your head – for some strange reason – expounds immense amounts of datasets to create your own private internal realms which, when engaged in, are no different to this external fabrication. See why I said the Simulation Hypothesis is more fact that fable, my friend? That and the sciences can’t replicate, like a monkey and unicycle. Doesn’t stop them from beating the drum and pounding the accordion which brings in the funding as they say a whole load of BS that is more science fict than fact since they ethered the Aether, back when. To them I have said:

“What is sound without music and who provides the best backing in the land?”.

The answer is silence or, from a Warriors lens, Psylense. Quiet your mind and the truth becomes Self evident as you are not the thoughts in your head or voice that talks without end but something altogether more subtle and ever present. This state I term the Witness and its what you beam into your character of pixels from the same but made of flesh as its origin is beyond this realm ergo this is an immense Game we’re playing using our Souls as credits which makes a whole load of sense when you consider the “Be Kind, Rewind” effect that bears a stunning resonance to the sliding down the birth canal and wearing a new Earthday Suit again. Anyway, every playa knows the state where they’re totally in the zone. The controller is long gone as is the concept of pushing buttons. Jesus said he and the father were one. Well, in times like this, your pixelated rep would probably say the same thing, yes? You will, he does. There is no input lag or lack of coherence. One mind, two forms but the intent is singular. Win. That is exactly how life is, my friend, hence the topic is the Simulation Theory, for gamers. Make sense? The easiest way to learn something fresh is to build upon an existing frame of reference then tear it down again and see what is left. What is constant from here to the screen and back again, awake or in bed and one life to the next?

If you said the Witness then give your Self a pat on the head as you obviously comprehend the shadows depth but take my word, not one bit. You should, instead, do the Knowledge as you steadily up your res. In that sense its akin to going from the rudimentary Pong to Breakout then leaping into Super Tennis before Beat Saber manifests and slaps your reality tunnel like a bish! What comes next? What else but a full sense overlay in which the real and fakeness become one and the same thing as you take in the elements and up your resonance ergo what is to say we aren’t already in this as we engage in recursive fractal of consciousness which has neither beginning nor end for the very world was built with exceedingly fine tolerances which is the same whether we speak on the Game or gaming for what are they but constructs designed for wonder and enjoyment? The trick is to realize this, in the flesh, and thus one can either choose the option of exodus – which is akin to the pixel rep of thee pondering its actions and motivation then finding out the true pic – or selecting a better adventure that may be akin to hacking the Matrix and its artificial limits so who runs the sandbox, in the end?

You, my friend. Because without your presence and awareness none of this exists beyond a potential awaiting actualization. That is how powerful the mind is. This life you’ve gained in the flesh is not by chance or happenstance. No way. You happen to be here and reading this text at this exact moment because there is a capability to awaken at the most dense level in which matter totally overwhelms Spirit which is the sweetest victory, yes? Remember what I said about training for an FPS then doing the deed in the flesh? Well, the more accurate way of seeing this is that you’re perfectly equipped to play the hand you were dealt to win for we all possess skills and states that, to others, may seem complex or intricate but, for you, are totally natural. Mine just happens to be showing Souls what it is. Everyone has one, at least, a few are multitalented. The aim of the Game, as far as I can tell, is comprehending you aren’t the flesh or story in your head but something so immense and ineffable that only can only truly click what kicks once they’ve tasted the sweet nectar of gnosis. This is far beyond religion or preaching and such things because before they were even a twinkle in the eyes of the priest class we had the Shamans and they were simply the remanents of the ones who could hold resonance to what was once common, once upon a when.

A great way to comprehend this is imaging you start off playing a Game with a full hologram overlay that taps directly into your senses and thus is totally indistinguishable from the main realm because when you’re plugged in its as real as it gets. You level up and progress and the resolution dips as you’re now wearing the VR tech we currently possess via a headset and controller mitts to approximate the imperience. Once again, the same thing kicks and now you’re playing from a couch with an immense screen in front via Sixth generation consoles and the commensurate lowering in effects etc etc. Soon you’re sitting in a bedroom with a small Fourteen inch screen and enjoying Sixteen bit excellence with friends before we’re back in the days of Pong and its true innovation.

In each of these steps and increments there is a demand the playa doth possess more and more imagination to buy what the world sells, yes? With a full on overlay that is directly tapped in its quite hard to tell what is real and when reps fakeness but as time progresses you can still zone in, if you wish, but also possess the capacity to awaken. Now, lets pretend that in the first stage the outer realm is heavenly bliss and totally tranquil ergo its quite difficult to awaken from what Simon Says but at present you’re playing metaphys Pong in a grotty arcade with all types of lowlife spirits, whirled, that may attempt to steal your credits as they tell you its copacetic whilst, outside, its raining shells from AK Forty Sevens as you live in a zone that is rife with religious conflict from which you’re escaping by gaming. Thats a pretty accurate statement, yes? Cogitate upon this thesis and see where it leads for you may just take that base metal and transmute your consciousness to something more golden because it goes like this:

You, as pure awareness, plug in to imperience what it means to be a spiritual being in times, most excellent thanks to this full on overlay tech. As you are wandering and wondering you chance upon a place that offers a retro trip to the days of VR headsets and a replay of its greatest hits. You accept and are transported to the tech we currently possess but, at the same instance, are still within that state of bliss which, itself, dwells within your unfinite, never changing consciousness as seen by the Witness who makes all possible. At some point you hit a lucky ticket and win a chance to uncover another chamber in which man and machine don’t possess such an intimate link which you gratefully accept and now manifest on the couch but have a whole nother life filled with virtual friends who don’t believe in this Simulation Theory BS as they’re too busy paying bills in order to run the treadmill and play to escape the stress of wearing flesh. Before you know it, you’ve developed a retro taste and want to sense the old school vibes when multiplayer was a local thing and the TVs had bootys like they’d grabbed a BBL so you set off on the hunt and call in a few pals for that wired controller hit as you cram around a tiny TV set into which you pour your imagination and then you take it up a notch and start paper rounding to insert more credits as you Witness the tech at incep.

As you’re sitting there, twiddling, you get a flash of gnosis that shows how you’ve dipped through so many layers of consciousness that fold in on themselves to create lesser and lesser versions that, paradoxically, get more and more intense as the tech does regress and yet the basic sketch from then to now remains identical as you gain that peak imperience state that may just be like the one I felt as a jit that I documented in this article and then you too may spend an inordinate amount of time trying to comprehend the true sketch at its depth because as far back as you can recollect you’ve felt there was an inherent fakeness to the prez so you set off on a quest and start peeling back the curtain of bits and find the image gets more and more complex as geometric patterns burst into your awareness now you’ve gone off grid and rejected the socially sanctioned programming at which point 8 words float into your consciousness and things are never the same again:

“The Game of Souls has you, my friend“.

Till we meet again

As Far Back as I Can Remember

As far back as I can remember
I wanted to Know the Truth.

The capitals are for a reason
as there is a difference between
believing and feeling
as the former is poor sub
whilst the latter exists
as pure gnosis.

To many
with sacred cows they do cherish
the perspect sounds blasphemous
and they’ll go to great lengths
to ensure the deception they invest in
remains unchecked
unchallenged
and unquestioned.

Its a strange state of affairs
it is
but
back then
I didn’t guess the sketch
or the true shadows depth.

Now
I Know a little bit
about a little bit.

Meaning that what I guessed
back when
as the DKDK Principle
has been elucidated
in a relentless quest for gnosis.

What did I discover?

Pure wickedness.

Nothing more
nothing less.

Raw.

Direct.

Unchecked.

If there is a Hell
then I’ve been there.

I was razed there
spelt correct
and yet
I ascend.

There is a twisted type of logic to this
a perverted intent that takes
immense pleasure from my suffering.

They all sport the same grin
which isn’t a surprise
as they share the same mind
between them
ergo
they are legion.

They do not forget
nor do they forgive as
they have no limits
they will not transgress.

They run everything in this bish
the whole show is theirs.

Or so they say
and would have you believe.

Do not expect a reprieve
as the concept of mercy is lost on them.

A cold, alien psyche
encased in human flesh
is the great deception
as I now comprehend
what Aristotle meant
which speaks on how long they’ve been
mingling among the peeps
pretending to be the same as thee
but, internally they disdain
hate and can’t wait to take
whatever they can grift
as their methods range
from blatant to subtle
often in the same instance
as they’re all fighting for the same thing
as
internally
they’re in a state of conflict
and always fighting for the win
but take on one
and the rest come running
which is a really strange thing to see
but not quite as weird as one energy
manifesting as various forms
that pick up where the other left off.

Kind of like the government, yes?
Or politics, to be more accurate.

How rarely the bird brained comprehend
what these two wings are linked to
in the mid
or how that was repped by
everything from logos to religious symbols
as they ain’t that creative
nor are the tricks new
but they certainly are effective
at selling ignorance as wisdom
to those plugged in.

Suddenly, the intent of a ghetto jit
to divine the authentic from the mess
that was the hand he was dealt
makes perfect sense
and this is why, my friend
I said I’m the first coal to become a diamond
in the modern realm
as the process is so forced and unnatural
that most crack in the oven
which never relents and was red hot
since you were a fetus
as they prepped the stage
perfect
then awaited your grand entrance
as they had the exit prepped
hence two brushes with death
before I’d started crawling
makes perfect sense, yes?

They say the bad men
keep the worse from the door.

In that sense there must be
another playa in this realm
that stops them going hell for leather
in the speculative and operative sense
on the rest
instead of just unleashing it
on the chosen ones
who choose themselves.

Maybe its just the Game
and the way its played?

Maybe there is something
that I just don’t get?

Or maybe the rhyme behind the reason
of these men who would be kings
is that its all built on deception
ergo the Truth
with capitalization
is anathema to them
and then it makes perfect sense
that if the masses accept decep
and nourish it with bloodshed
obviously the genuine remains
at a slight distance
hence the need for a quest
that the world will try and prevent.

Does this many any sense?

To me it does.

Way more now than it ever did
and the scale of things is so immense
yet totally simple as well
because if it takes a nation of millions
to hold back an infant
the one who Knows the Ledge is
off rip
a threat
because they reconnect with Inner Sense
which reveals the Adulterated shell
for what it is
and that is why they detest the Truth
but dare not face it
and instead
circumvent in steps
snip snip
those are the short cuts
most don’t realize are missing
from the “official” script
as lies made big
and repeated often
are the hallmarks of tyrants in masquerade
and the Slaves who are scared stiff
will handsomely pay
the bad men
to keep the worse from the door
without stopping to comprehend
they are cousins in the end
and of one intent
that manifests by many faces
but go against one
and you must beat them all.

These are the scores on the doors
daubed red with blood
innocent
as far as I can tell
but
you shouldn’t believe a thing
because what is genuine to one
shouldn’t be authentic to another
on spec
without reality testing
and introspection
as that form of gospel
is how the fakes get it in
whereas the Truth stands alone
welcomes all challengers
and gives not an F about your feelings
as its ineffable
and
best of all
it protects me
everywhen.

Till we meet again

Life in the Kali Yuga

The Game has stages and we all play our parts. This is why its hard to be smart but ignorance is cherished as a sort of wisdom for those who step in and ask not the correct questions of the temperament they possess. Who programmed it? To what end? If we were to keep it really real about your parents the truth would bring some yelps and protestation from those just tuning in. Well, let me be the first to tell:

They were idiots.

What I mean by this isn’t a diss, just a factual statement. And I can prove it.

They did what was expected without stopping to reality test, question the narrative or even ponder “Who benefits?”. Did the plan your conception with two bodies joined with one intent to usher in a specimen of the optimal resonance at a time, most appropriate? Did your mother spend those nine months of gestation building a link with things that would sustain and develop your foundation or did she eat what she wished whilst consuming junk via the dish? Were your natural talents honed and sketched or were your forced to fit a template that placed an edifice of ignorance between you and their affection? I’ll let you tell it. That is just the basics, my friend, as it gets worse with each step since for they had access to your nascent awareness, Twenty Four/Seven. In many respect the mess your life is is directly due to them but its upkeep and maintenance? Well, that is entirely due to your efforts…

This stage of the Game is known as the Kali Yuga. It is here that ignorance roams free and thieves dress as kings. We are fascinated by the superficial and ignore anything of depth as its implications present a threat to the temple of iniquity we have built and dwell within. See, who you are compared to could have been can be proven, most easily, by simply answering this request:

Are you the best of wackest version of your Self?

You Knew, instant, where you sit on this range of variables and that is testament to what I said being correct, yes? No you know, what are you going to do about it? If you’re one of the 81%, the answer is nothing. You will perform the same rote ignorance due to a lack of awareness and thus snuff out the nascent light of Inner Sense to create another dimmed remembrance of unexamined potential in your children. Why? Because everyone is doing it. That is the danger of resonance or being so well tuned to such immense social sickness that you think its correct. Actually, Thunk is more accurate as its a Click-Whirr process that is helmed by the voice in your head that many accept is them without actually comprehending they are the one who listens and thus makes all possible. Negative thoughts are there to challenge, my friend. Do the Knowledge and awaken the Warrior within is the song I sing.

Do you? Sing, that is? What about dancing? Or drawing? Anything remotely creative? Why are these now reduced to embers, fading, when they used to roar from within? That is the price for playing this stage of the Game we all play using our Souls as credentials. Whoops, I meant credits but you get my drift. We class ourselves on the basis of what someone says which, if you consider it, is a pretty strange way of living, yes? That which can be defined, externally, can be controlled, liminally. This is the Beast and the System it built is as invisible as water to a fish that swims in seas, polluted. See, it wasn’t always like this. But, this too shall end and we’re seeing that happen, at present, hence why I push the pen because the next camera trick is even more elegant hence the question:

Would you have sex with a robot?

Don’t worry, your grandchildren will and they’ll think anyone who decries is worse than Hitler himself. Who knows, they may be correct? I’m simply sketching the variables, its up to you what you do with them as the only moment that exists is the gift of the present. How often do you dwell there? Why does the world seem hell bent on destroying itself and telling fibs that life is great and they’re enjoying it? Do I sound miserable? Disconnected? In need of a hug and some excitement? Maybe or maybe I’ve been mainlining the secret truth to reality and it screams, loudly, that none of this is what it seems… Don’t worry though. The odds are about to be equalized, real quick because like the Mobb said there is only so long that fakes can pretend. Recognize the real:

Speed over depth is what we cherish hence why we’re rushing to other planets before checking what is within our own oceans. Do you know why this is? Because the remnants of the past that now swim with the fish would paint a vastly different pic hence why Napoleon said that history is one big fib that is designed by he who controls the scrip. Ah yes, the golden rule which sells the fools all the money that is fit to print. And yet, you can’t take a step without it. How is that for “freedom”, my friend? Do you know the worst side effect of this mode of training is one places the same limits on what they think and allow to pop in their head? It is the mark of the well educated to be able to entertain principles that contradict, consider without taking offense and then generate a reasoned argument. Compare this with the comments sections in which people let rip and it shows what time it is. Life in the Kali Yuga is as close to Hell as wearing the flesh can get and yet we sit, with remote in hand, barking commands via voice rec as we eat out of season, intensely farmed and genetically pimped things whilst our minds are awash in a sea of neurochemicals that force us to binge and seek another hit. From what are we escaping with such constant distractions?

Somewhere a mother sits, enjoy her time off. She eats as she wishes as there is no need to stay trim as the excess is expected. She watches trash television as this is who she wishes to keep up with and, all the time, the baby in her womb takes in these signals as her base of operations for when she steps in. See why I said they’re idiots? Two words shattered your inner realms. Two of them caused your Inner Sense to end, fold in upon itself and develop into the Adulterated (false) self that currently sits at the helm and has you living a life, third person, second hand. And you wonder why the glow dims at the age of six and its all been downhill since…

Do I sound bitter and twisted? Did my boat come but I had no ticket? Was my request to swab decks just to be able to mingle duly rejected and thus, like Otis, I sit and watch them roll in and then out again? Perhaps. Or I may have seen the fix was in, declined the invitation and chose to think different as I lash together a raft like a Cuban immigrant that then drifts the ninety miles to the land that is promised… Only to find that itself was an illusion. To play the Game and win one must know the lay of the land as it is and not what they sell or tell. That is discernment and when it kicks you’ll know what I meant when I said your folks were idiots.

In a time of slick tricks we see greed rebranded as “hustle” and yesterdays excess becomes tomorrows standard. Just compare the Roman emperors to what sits in your fridge and then makes it way, uneaten, to the bin. And yet, people are starving. Did you know that most, on the planet, live for less than Six Dollars a day? Let the truth of that sink in and tell me about your privilege that was, hitherto, unquestioned. “Work, buy, consume, die” was programmed into your head hence we base relationships on the frivolous, reproduce in ignorance then work double shifts in order to pay someone else raising your kids and that is when the black mirror in their grip isn’t instructing them to become an imbecile, oh yes. That, in a nutshell, is life in the Kalyug where joy is pain and we affix blame anywhere but within. Where demons are friends and “Death to the infidel!” keeps the rivers running red plus lies are so old and familiar that the truth feels like a boot to the dish and about twice as subtle.

Fake gurus and tourist spirituality abounds when money is the true religion that wears the crown and everyone wants to take a pic next to the man who would be king… Your status is defined by those who like, comment and subscribe then buy in to whatever it is you’re shoveling. As long as its ignorance, my friend, the market will remain filled for wisdom is anathema to these pilgrims. Your identity is carefully curated, a life you don’t truly live but wish was more than something to project. Faces are flipped, aspects edited and we repress that which we don’t accept but then rush to blame someone else for the tension we feel within. Truly, a species in psychosis.

“Speed, speed, speed. That is all I need” says the harebrained populace, little realizing this race only leaves them in the same place for who truly questions what there is to win when the fix is in? Memes convey information, Wiki tells people what to think and many profess to have gained enlightenment just because they watched someone else talk about what they read another describing. People don’t care though. They fall in and play “Face in the crowd, number four hundred and eighty seven” as they fit, playing second fiddle – in their own existence… Which is, in a twist, most ironic, the total truth hence this is is a time of mass illusion in which ignorance is wisdom. This is why your mind is terrified of silence, can’t stand having time to think, constantly craves distraction and reassurance, in equal measures, which hints at a far deeper schism I’ve termed Adulteration that infects the whole planet.

Stillness, humility and the courage to let go of control are things most don’t know nor wish to get acquainted with. Why? Because the (false) self detests them and what it says is sacrosanct for the plebs. “That sounds like Hell and feels like death” says one, plugged in. They’re right, you know. It is for the fakeness and once you do kill it dead the realness is resurrected and then you’ll Know the Ledge. Most are not ready to think like this and fewer still to live as I don’t just push the pen for clicks but simply share my perspect in this ocean of madness as I, alone on my raft, take the sights in as I watch you swabbing decks on the cruise ship from Hell…

We rush to give away our power. Not out of weakness but due to fear of our own strengths. Traits that were suppressed, shushed or beaten out of us by our parents. They truly are the key to all of this. As are you to your children, my friend. We learn to fold in and then the tracks are set for a loop de loop of awareness that is always predictable hence why you can second guess that dialogue and yet still do what it says. Preachers, pimps and politicians are one and the same thing but playing different roles in fancy dress. Those taken in by the performance need a middle man as they feel powerless. What if this was the biggest trick? The invisible code to the Matrix that is, yet, ever present? What then? See, the ego is a slippery bish and it can sell dreams you take in with open eyelids ergo if one steps in and attempts to awaken you’ll think he’s talking nonsense without stopping to comprehend the depth of the message or why the man says such a thing. Such is the way of the Slave, I guess.

We look for loopholes and quick fixes. Sixty second abs instead of less time in the kitchen. Its not just here that we cheat but an across the board thing as there are plenty of women who rejected something quite correct and then accepted far less as their glow started to dim. Secretly, they resent. He’s just glad to get something and the rest? Well, they’ll be sexing silicon in a way most don’t expect but is quite inevitable. All in the Game, mayne! We argue with others not to learn but win. Like you can condition true goodness or change anyones opinion? People are set in their ways, like quick drying cement hence why we are born full of flex and leave old and doddering. Say, you don’t think the phrase “weak daze” could have a thing or six to do with this? Take one off to rest or call them both a “weakened”and the rest is obvious. Or, maybe it isn’t? Try these words of power, see if they fit.

Old folks homes attest that we desecrate wisdom and cherish ignorance. Not that one should respect a donkey for its immense innings but there is a touch of the ironic about paying on both ends for someone else to handle what is your responsibility, in the flesh. Its pretty wild, the sights I see, so I push the pen and document my perspect as I roam, that way and this. Like a man without a country, this world is not my own hence I may be in but not of, that much is for certain. Does it feel lonely? Sometimes but I’m never alone as I can spark, instantly, the sacred flame within via a simple conversation that changes everything and when I retire into the Psylense I am met by my old friend, the Higher Self, who shares his wisdom about other lives that I’ve lived and what truly kicks in this realm hence I truly am the luckiest man on the scene for I get to see not only the scene that they project but the man behind the curtain as well.

If you seek the truth, prepare to be terrified as none of this is what it seems and the above words and spiel are merely a tiny piece of the whole sketch, oh yes. After a while you get used to it though and the quest becomes a thrill to see what you can discover next and that, my friend, is a life filled with Inner Sense for there are no strangers nor enemies in this realm. Just friends I have met yet and if we bump heads they’re teachers to show me that about Self which I was previously ignorant ergo its all for the win.

Till we meet again

Stripping Reality to Its Basics

Somebody once asked me:

“Whats your mission?“.

“Stripping reality to its basics” I said. And meant it. “Why?“, you may be wondering. Simple, its only when you Know what is you can discern the rest of the mess. The meta I’ve used before is that of ink on a canvas. It hides whilst presenting. Human consciousness is, I suspect, identical to this. It is also, by some strange coincidence, the exact same thing each temple, church and mosque is worshipping. Albeit with different things etched on the same fundamental presence. Are you starting to catch my drift? This ineffable, inescapable thing is constant from one life to the next, awake or in bed and any other variable you can imagine so why, out of anything else in this realm, would you choose not to get better acquainted with its presence? Better yet, why is the simple and elegant point so deftly hid under all types of pimpy tricks and algoriths? Its identical to how the black mirror in your grip can make you laugh or rinse tears of mass emotional hits plus time travel as well. Isn’t that fascinating? If we flip that medium we gain some darkness into which light shines its illumination of pure brilliance. If you, bit by bit, remove a pixel here and some there you’ll have every movie ever made plus all the ones we haven’t created. Same with human consciousness, I guess, so one must wonder – is technology the Devil that mimics the creation or is it a hint that we’re caught up in a real life Matrix? See, to navigate muddy waters at the moon, the wolf howls as there are stacks on stacks of camera tricks that life does string into an elegant deception we call “Being human”. And yet, to the refrains of “Magic, magic E”, are we humane in any sense? I thinks not, Terrell, I thinks not.

You ever clicked how these vows to el are, literally, responsible for generating all types of spells and rites? Check when they flipped the script and question if the Empire ever ended, my friend… Forget the hand most push the pen with and the odd blip of how so many that ascend to the top of the pyramid have sinister intents and ponder why nearly every single culture, nearly, calls the left hand wicked and of ill repute? Answers on postcard, if you have a clue… One of the things I do really quite well is taking things apart and putting them back together again with a little twist that rejigs and takes the end result to another octave. We used to call this “hacking”, back in the days when the bits were big and pixels the size of your fist. Now things have changed as walled gardens are the rage but, in an odd link, that old apple, ready bit, is still waiting in the wings as Siri (flip it) covets your seeds iris as the place she wishes to sit. Like I said, what if electricity is the alien and we watched its “evolution” become an intervention as man starts sexing silicon, just like he’s been trained to expect, by decades of repetition and “turning on” tech… Stranger things have happened ergo the need to keep it basic. I would go so far as to say this is the key difference between madman and mystic as the former is trying to swim in seas of higher consciousness whilst carrying a load of earthen bricks whilst the latter dives in, ascends, and spreads his wings that are actually natural equipment for we are Souls wearing flesh ergo the brain doesn’t create consciousness. These are a few of the obvious things I’ve found by looking because simplicity is the ultimate complexity as any fool with a PR campaign (like Saint Einstein) can say a whole load of nothing that messes up the Game for generations but it takes a genius like Tesla to flip it all on its head, unleash his imagination and then be told by the world:

“Yep, that sure was one great invention. Be sure to tell us if you dream up something else” with a mean look that points at lines and suggests you read betwixt. The chap spent the rest of his life talking to his favorite pigeon that shot beams of information from its eyes which – before you think he’d flipped his lid you may consider the resonance with another man called Philip K Dick who had a similar encounter with sentient luminance – I find really, really interesting as I had the same imperience not long before my latest brush with death and things were never the same again hence the mission to strip reality down to its basics and try and make sense of whats happening as walking around a rock that floats in an abyss as it chases a fireball off into the distance as I wear skin and take in all the syncs and ponder why One Oh Eight keeps popping up again is verging on the ridiculous, yes? Hoyle said “The fix is in” and I agree with him as he also commented that the odds of life being just like this is akin to a whirlwind ripping through a junkyard and leaving a perfectly formed jumbo jet. The flip is quite simple as wanton destruction is not elegant but lets pretend that aliens exist and they purposefully crash land a ship that is just ahead of our current tech so we can reverse engineer it. What then? What if they weren’t from some place else but a breakaway civilization that lived in the oceans hence why we map other planets but not our own surroundings? That bits pure speculation but there are many legends that attest that such things can and did happen so it keeps one wondering because when you disassemble the whole thing you find many odd bits that have resonance. Like you are stripping that plane and find bits within that are all color coded so when you assemble them you get a hovercraft instead. Wouldn’t that be something? You’d have to ponder at the intelligence that seems to be playing an immense Game of Hide and Seek, yes? You zip across the seas and happily scream “Whee!” and come across a strange island filled with things that, seemingly, make no sense. Here you find more bits and with a little bit of tweaking and remixing your old craft is now a rocketpack instead and of you’re off on another mission of ascent.

In between all of this you keep your feet on the ground, stop, calibrate and listen to the quiet presence within that discovered these inventions as you ponder the intention of all of this. That is stripping reality back to its basics, my friend, as it doesn’t mean you’re rolling with Fred as a Flintstone up in the bish but you’re actually a few steps ahead of the rest and start to comprehend we may just be suppressed Jetsons or something else… Doesn’t that sound interesting? Like a life worth living and thoroughly examined? They’ll never tell you to keep up with this nor provide any type of inkling or hint on how to think like this so don’t stress as it won’t be on the test when it comes to running the treadmill but I was never one for that mess. No, not me. I asked questions without relent. Like I was getting paid to and needed to make rent. This, as you may guess, stressed the teachers no end ergo they would rapidly expel me from the class that was in session so I was free to wander the halls of my local camp of concentration. That I did, that I did. Then came back with more Qs at a higher res. And so on went the process of refinement until we get to this:

The latest testament to my current level of ignorance for if there is one thing I Know, for certain, its that I don’t know a thing. One needs that type of cognitive flex whilst the rest are so rigid they do immense mental gymnastics instead trying to spin that handful of plates they inherited from their parents as their aim is to keep their “reality” intact and pass it on (with a hug or slap) to the next gen that step in. Miss me with that mess as I could tell that sketch is what made my folks miserable ergo I rebelled without a pause and kept pushing the buttons just to check what happens next because you may get an electric shock from sticking a key in the socket but what happens if you try it with gloves instead and then repeat the imperiment but using a step down transformer as well? By the way, isn’t it amazing how you can roll dead remote batteries in your grip and they come back to life again? Did you know that hugs work just like this? See, the heart sends out an immense electromagnetic field which brings the one you grip into a state of resonance like a jump start of their radiant circuits. Fascinating, yes? Just one of the things you discover as you disassemble the jumbo jet and stick a few parts together again in a different arrangement.

In case you didn’t click the aircraft of which I speak is mans current state of consciousness and the UFOs mentioned are what we were, back when, as the minds that built the Pyramids. We did this. Well, they did, as we may as well be another species in the respect that our res has been so downgraded. Its like if Youtube suddenly decided “Two Forty Ps for thee, globally” and the whole net followed suit. People would gnash and wail for a bit then learn to live with it. After a couple of gen they could double the res and people would be beside themselves with the fidelity but thats only cos they didn’t peep the shell Game in full effect. Kinda like how “new” Coke pulled a trick by switching out real sugar for High Fructose instead and that caused all types of mess for the fat of land, it did. Just another thing you stitch by loosening the thread of the fabric and this is also the same reason old whips and their modern equivalents look miniature then immense as its also why vanity labels did shift because its done to hide the fact that people are waddling as overconsumption is in. In everything, that is. If you’re an Eighties jit you’ll recollect how there were a handful of brands and about that many options. Nowadays you see peeps stress about the variety of fabric detergents but under the swizz there is the Wiz as a handful of corporates control all this and sell illusions to the rest. Like blue and red that hid the golden circle in the mid… More to heaven and earth, my friend.

This is why I said that energy dwells in motion whilst consciousness is still. The same reason why intuition is feminine whilst daring reps that which swings instead which, funnily enough, links back in to the two thieves in your head and what is, daily, crucified in the mid. Like I said, more to heaven and earth on this jumbo jet that can, if you wish, be a hovercraft and then be used to ascend beyond the surly grip of this realm. But only if you Know the Ledge and use what is in your hands the best because the content of life and what it says on the tin are so diametrically opposed that one just may think, if they were conspiratorially minded, that the fix is in in more ways than one suspects. A man like this most dangerous to the status – both quo and quodlibet – as it can be quite contagious if you’re not really hearing “reality” on FM. Its simply one option but they never said “Don’t touch that dial” as that would suggest it can be switched ergo its “Do as we say, or else” all the way from your parents to the school to your boss and the rest and lets not forget the basic tenet of all religions:

“Do as I say, or else“.

Welcome to the pyramid, my friend. Actually, take a look at this:

Does it ring any bells? Spark a recollection? Symbols don’t have definitions but ecosystems so what it says is both public and private, in a sense, so think on it and see what swims into your consciousness because the King beneath the Earth may have a message… Can I tell you something, my friend? I genuinely don’t have a clue. I have seen so many different points of view via this cosmic Etch A Sketch that I think I should stop and chill for a bit and try and think about nothing but then I recollect thats what made me disassemble everything and we’re back to the bare canvas so what the heck, mayne? What I mean by this is reality may, quite literally, be exactly what you make and if we build upon this then the next logical step is a Choose Your Own Adventure in the flesh which strongly suggests free will is a fib and this is backed, really well, with the fact that if you look down on this realm like a man at a fish as he stands on the embankment you see this:

Which means from the moment the zinc egg unleashed its Big Bang effect as the sperm popped in and shared the light which life would twist around 8 immortal cells to generate your own personal Ship of Theseus to the moment the plus sized body positive gender neutral non denominative person wails everything follows a script with a certain set of options which means, in the end, me doing this, now, was inevitable. Kind of like when Neo met the Architect and he unleashed his own brand of verbiage which sounded, to most, like he’d eaten and digested a fully grown Thesaurus Rex as it certainly wasn’t a standard type of lex but lets just say that was his flex on the dude standing in front of him that had the power to crumble his kingdom of fiction as, behind him, they replayed old options from other spins to show him how it was all… inevitable. There goes your free will! Its kind of expensive, isn’t it? Like DLC in a Game but hidden from the rest who think they’re already using it. Ha! The grift never ends but, without us, nothing ever happens in this realm so, once again, we’re chipping away at lead paints on a canvas made of silk that was, once upon a when, embroidered with gossamer threads of the most golden tint for we are the alchemists that fell and now dance with the Devil who, at present, manifests as the voice in your head and says:

“Speedboat rocketpack and sexing robots, silicon? This nutter is off his meds, thats for certain. Plus, what the heck does he mean the will, like the P, isn’t free. I can do anything I wish, whenever, however”.

Really? Really, my friend? Here is a challenge that will rip away that illusion:

If you own something, truly, you control its everything. You can use, stash or donate and there is no need for probate as you say, it goes, yes? If that truly is your mind in that head then for the next ninety seconds stop it entirely and make it still. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting.

So, how it went? Did that prove what I meant about the need to get to the basics to find whats hidden in the mix? Congratulations, you just met the (false) self that pretends, via the voice in your head, to be who you Thunk you are in this realm and it will never, ever teach you to strip the jumbo jet it built as it needs for you to keep on buying the tickets it sells so you and the rest can sit, huddled like cattle, from one place to the next as these airborne carriages are akin to chunks of thought, prepackaged, that you share with the rest who underwent the same process and to take it apart requires imagination which, for most, is so dead they’ve got a better chance of seeing Jesus resurrect which is mildly ironic with a highly laconic twist based on what I previously said about He repping your consciousness. That means no hovercraft that drifts over the seas of ignorance as you choose your own adventure in the flesh by veering off script as you clicked there was a microdot that said:

“Congratulations for noticing this. You have unlocked a hidden chamber and can now pick from the following pages which adjust the variables as you intend to manifest your very best“.

As you build that personal rocketpack which then becomes a hyperdimensional spaceship which allows you to Witness, in the flesh, future memories that have done kicked and in each and every one of these trips the canvas remains identical for it is thee, my friend, at your essence ergo stripping reality to its basics makes one super rich and abundant in ways most in a daze of well adjustment will never stop and comprehend and if that isn’t quite a sad thing then I don’t know what is…

Till we meet again