You Are Inside the Universe With a Youniverse Inside

One of the most amazing things about my latest brush with death was meeting something that is so ineffable that you simply can’t F with it! Describing it in text is akin to the example of sharing the vision of an ocean with a land locked Bedouin. I suddenly comprehend why Lao Tzu said that the Tao which can be spoken of isn’t the way. Its amazing how we use these spells to communicate but when they come to our inner realms they are threadbare and decrepit when it comes to capturing or even sharing our magnificent radiance. Take that and times it by the power of infinitum when you read what comes next:

I would like you to imagine an immense thing which is a living, breathing process but not mineral or organic. It has two things happening at the same instant that are quite mind bending for a mere human to comprehend and that is that is spins on one axis, standing proudly in the mid, but it two different directions (at the same instance) and the upper half is totally expansive (like a telescope) whilst the other is highly reductive (the microscope effect). The net result of this is what you call this entire realm and, specifically, the human incarnation. This process is replicated – what do you expect? Its a fractal, after all – in your mental process hence:

You are inside the universe with a youniverse inside.

Its why I’ve said you should never trust an atom as they make up everything and why said things are made up of nothing and yet seem solid to the grip. The next part – where you have never met or stranger or actually touched anything “out there” – is equally hard to comprehend as your day to to day illusion says something else. Well, who you gonna believe? Me, or your lying eyes?

I have spoken to many trippers, both chemically assisted and natural, and nobody seems to have met this yet which means it could all be a delusion but methinks it isn’t and the proof of this pudding are those who, once upon a when, rode the green dragon with joy and abandon until:

“Can’t do it no more. Even a toke on a spliff makes me a paranoid wreck. Shame, I used to enjoy it as well”.

They met it. And the schizophrenics knew it. It is, what I suspect, generates the pulsating patterns the DMT peeps attest and its why, back when, I sat in school and said:

“Sir, you see that image you’ve shown of the galaxies and how they spin? How come they look like they’re moving really quick but you said they’re stuck, frozen, and why do they appear identical to the structure of the atom? Could we actually be within it like a Jack and Beanstalk thing?”.

As usual I was thrown out as I wouldn’t relent and had to know the answers that he simply didn’t possess as he was only doing it for a cheque. That was, in effect, my first introduction to the tele/microscope effect and, since then, I’ve met it quite a few times and definitely felt its influence as it can seem like mainlining the secret truth of the universe (when in a high octave) as the syncs and things you sing about they bring out. On the flip, when on a dip, the paranoia is intense as you see nothing but sheer malevolence shining from the countenance of a wicked clique as you think:

“Surely they can’t all be in on it? Can they?” as the bullets are flying and you’re artfully misled by your bought and paid for mademoiselle playing a role, par excellence:

Marvel as they pick out random bits of what you’ve thought or said in private and thats before we mention the street theater as well. Are these forces, at their basic, what we call “god” and “the devil”? Methinks they is. Methinks they is and that is why I’ve termed one Psylense and the other noiZ because those old labels have too much baggage for me to heft and thus I create my own definitions, sketched at the res of my imperience, which you are free to accept or reject as it is no skin off my nasal cartilage. Or, as a career cokehead once said:

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, mhmm, exactly this. It spins everywhere at once but its nowhere as well and it feels like being in the grip of angel whilst getting mind F’d by the devil himself who never even said so much as “Just the tip” but raped you into sheer paranoid flinching before, somehow, mercy did manifest. It only happened once, mind, and that was nearly enough to put me off the sniff for a bit. Truth be told I started cutting it after this – the gears just too potent – and making sure that when I partook there was never any top shelf spliffery present as I suspect that is what took me over the edge, back when, as it tore my head to shreds by moving in two directions, but yeah, I get why madmen all think they’re Jesus or something because whatever it was I felt was far more honest and direct than the flesh and blood that presents but I was so wrecked off my box I never could put it into words until you mentioned that dual axis spin around a point that is eternal, unchanging and constant. That is what I think bought me in off the edge, I guess“.

Just another statement from Knowing the Ledge aka upping your res as, like a balloon that is filled, your mind can never, ever shrink to what it was before this imperience. The most amazing thing about this is I’m starting to suspect a bacterial/fungal link as well as the celestial which makes perfect sense if we’re within a fractal as the only thing faster than the speed of light is the sound of Psylense, ya dig? Information is all there is and you’re made to encode, decode and transceive it, as does everything else… Pictures being thousands of words that speak for themselves say it best to one who Knows the Ledge:

Granted these are sober peak states talking on the web and such things are beyond the ken of most men as they are so well adjusted to running the treadmill and thus don’t click its all happening within their consciousness but the telescope is reported by many pro athletes who have said:

“All of it fades to nothing. Its like Bruce said “It hits by itself“. Sometimes it feels like I’m just a watcher who is along for the lift as I see what kicks and marvel at how well it functions”. As every great artist has said, its about getting out of your own way and allowing the champion within to reveal itself…

On the flip these are the same, in the off season or when their glow has dimmed, who have crippling painkiller addictions and other vices or whims which, I suspect, are the other end of the deal manifesting. On the day to day these are poles between which the manic depressive doth shift as a couple of them have nodded their heads at the sketch as they attest that they too felt totally powerless to resist what was happening as it was an energy coursing through their veins that evidently didn’t originate within as its strength was immense and beyond questioning. Which, once again, is exactly what every single schizo, ever, has said about the demons on the mind that haunt him as well as the angels, now and then, that reveal things like they did to Tesla, Nash and Van Gogh as well.

You are inside the universe with a youniverse inside.

Its actually the best place to hide lifes greatest secrets, yes? After all, the inner realms of most are nigh on invisible and beyond questioning as they cannot imagine being anything else than what presents as they take the shape of the container they’re poured in. Or snowman who, as you’ve guessed, is water at its lowest vibration which, itself, is simply steam, condensed. Shades of the tele/microscope, yes? There is something I really want to tell you at this point but another aspect says its not appropriate yet for some reason. I’ll defer to the bit in the mid from which both spring as I sit, Centered in Self, and push the pen because it may come later in this text or another session. What it is, however, is pretty amazing and offers an immense clue of how your unfinite awareness was flipped, stripped, dipped, chipped and remixed to become Inner Sense and how that, itself, is a one time deal for this spin and should be fully embraced and then released from your grip as its such a rare occurrence. A way you can picture it is like a stack of Post It notes. Each one, singular, is what we term Spirit. The whole thing is called Soul and thus is without beginning nor end as it simply is. Unfinite is the term I built to describe it as the in variation suggests constraint and limits when this force has no such thing. Wow, this has just said it all without saying it. Titilation and titivation, par excellence! Up your res so I don’t have to say it. Find your own answers and don’t show your working because thats akin to describing a dream to another person, isn’t it? It never makes sense to them but, for you, its perfectly cogent. We now return to your regularly scheduled program:

Much like a box that is filled with atoms can only fall to a certain limit before there is no more motion there are limits to what we’ve termed “evil” aka matter at its most dense. No prizes for guessing where we are, as individuals and collective, at the present moment and thus the true nature of the forces at the helm of this immense top, spinning, and how they’re pimping it. There was a time when our resonance and function was way different, my friend, and this is why all cultures, without exception, reference a time, golden, in which men were gods in comparison to what came after they fell. Think of it as breathing in and out as its the same one and zero than manifests as the tech you’re using and the vintage (yet still more advanced) version you’re wearing to interact with this realm. Much like the rainbow doesn’t exist without the eyes to see this universe is a projection of the youniverse within. Research the angles and play them and you’ll see why they slid Forty Two in as the answer to everything as it is. To the plebs. For the Warrior its simply a stepping stone to higher res as a they ask better questions more refined by what presents. That way lies madness, if shipwrecked, or enlightenment if you comprehend you are neither the choppy seas, in their element, or boat itself with beleaguered man within but are actually projections of a happy kid, splashing away, at bath time with a fertile imagination that pours in and saturates the moment making it what it is to those in the grip of over identification with the process.

Such is the power of Inner Sense, yes? Can you see why they Adulterate it, quick, as that is akin to a flash frozen mammoth whose last thoughts were “What the hell?” as the poles shifted and what was tropic became chill (and the flip) as men gawped at the motions of heavens, interrupted, and set off in search of sanctuary as the Eden they knew well sunk below the surface of the ocean. These days they call it “Climate Change” and fly all around the world on private jets whilst taxing you for the privilege. Ironic, isn’t it, how quick they are to discount the intelligence of the planet, the motions of the celestial aspects and what they said as well as the fact that all of this may simply be an atom inside a much larger man who is meditating at present whilst wondering “How would it feel to be a man reading this via the tech of the black mirror which is simply one side of the hexagon of Saturn and its celestial twin of Jupiter?”. How many would click the true origin of this glyph or its deeper meaning? Doesn’t the fact that this happens mean the fix is in? Are we seeing realities “programming language”?

Refer back to what I said and do the Knowledge as these could be the ravings of a man pushed to the brink as he played the cards dealt to win and bet against the odds to stack major chips or a mass exercise in speculative fiction that attempts to stitch a narrative from the many disparate threads life presents as he stumbles over the immense elephant that was always present but obscured by camera tricks and BS by those in the biz of dream selling… I’ll let you tell it.

In the end, beginning and during its all consciousness. Either you are sitting on the top of a mountain of ignorance of you’ve delved down the depths, done the Knowledge and drawn your own conclusions that weren’t part of the syllabus and, no, reading anothers words, watching their vids and commenting doesn’t count as that is second hand gnosis which is as much use a straight man on an island full of lesbians. Too many fall for that trick as its old and effective because whats offered from a distance doesn’t match the writing on the tin and, worst of all, even that is a deception because the true terms and conditions were etched in a microdot hence the need to up your res. Sometimes I really do wonder if there is any point to me pushing the pen like this because gnosis is so fine and delicate its like handing an egg made of silk to a gorilla with an iron fist. Worse, actually, because at least the animal would have the sense to comprehend something stuck to its appendage and may even intuit the nature of that which you pass for they are connected (both outside and within) with far greater coherence than the modern beast called man who, often, will misconstrue one pointing at the moon as being given the finger. Even if a few get it they’ll argue about where he stood – relative to the them – and then you’ll hear a cheery yell of “Kill the infidel!” as the northern and southern hemispheres shred the other over what the man in the equator said.

Maybe its me thats the problem? I could be he that is incorrect because if the way that is correct is signposted and effortless then it feels like I’ve spent my life walking over unpaved roads that were strewn with thorns, back when. And yet, with each step, I gain a twinkling of gnosis that is oh so familiar with its newness that it feels like being asleep in bed and becoming cogent of the hoax being perpetrated and doing something about it as you comprehend you are the the thoughts, thinker and thinking which leads to a moment of existential bliss as you see through the illusion and feel an immense weight of tension lift that you, previously had been unaware of carrying in ignorance. I cannot help but think such things should be shared with the rest for if you had discovered an oasis in the desert and I was thirsting I’d sure appreciate a sip, yes?

Through all of this there is one thing that remains constant and thats the tele/microscope effect. It is, what I suspect, is used to make the glow of Inner Sense dim as all of that unrealized potential is scooped and looshed up for who knows what ends and then, lets not forget, they come and claim the dregs via your television set and other antics designed to leech your attention as well. The grift never ends! Of course, to the well adjusted, the above may seem like gibberish but to those who dwell on the fridge and/or Know the Ledge it could make a lot of sense as its obvious there is something missing from the sketch when we take in the majesty of life as it is and the way man is acting. On the flip sits the peak imperience that started this missive that is so intensely personal yet universal as well so, with that said, you should believe none of what I’ve shared and, instead, take the steps to disprove it by glancing within at your own youniverse to feelsee what its saying as I’m interested in hearing your transcript.

Its like a feather on the peacock realizing the eye it uses to see is actually flat and Two D in comparison to the true majesty of which it is a part and was never disconnected as its current form is but a messenger for the essence: Pure consciousness. How in the heck would you expect it to explain to the denizens of Flatland what it just comprehended about the true nature of reality as it slides back into the mix with those who accept, without question, what their senses present to their conditioned awareness? I guess the best way of saying it is:

You are inside the universe with a youniverse inside.

Till we meet again

What Is the Meaning for Me?

I just realized that, as we approach five hundred articles, I’ve never said out loud the most obvious things which underpins the realness:

What is the meaning for me?

Six words hold the key for picking the lock of your reality tunnel and taking a step outside the narrow, plastic trench of what you’ve come to accept because, like the old nursery rhyme says, life is but a dream (within a dream). That is the point that makes it really, really mind bending because if you’re a well trained square watermelon that paints by the numbers, said, then you probably won’t have a clue about what comes next but, on the flip, if you’re what folks term a bit fringe, weird or out there then you’ll, no doubt, be living your lyrics and nod your head as I kick the ballistics:

Everything has significance. Its literally dripping in it because, first and foremost, I am the only Soul on the planet. Not to get solipsistic but, back when, I couldn’t help but pondering how ten men can meet one and draw as many divisive opinions. That, literally, makes no sense – no matter how you slice it – unless we’re all trapped within our perceptions and this is what we interact with hence reality tunnel. Next, seeing as this is my mind and psyche whatever kicks within has a personal significance and thus its up to me to decode it or be encoded. This is a bloom or bust thing or how one jelly differs from the next even if their makeup is identical. Just these two, alone, could have me sitting, alone, pondering for absolutely ages and then, if someone should wander in, I’d hoist them to my current level of perception and create an ad hoc connection of resonance as I poured a perspective into them and asked what shifted within the tunnel they were digging. Many would lament that I’d totally blown their high as they were nicely lifted and now presenting as stone cold sober as they were forced to consider something they’d hadn’t wished to contemplate but, once again, they come back through for another hit as there was obviously a part of them that was interested. That, alone, could fill many volumes but lets jump off the cliff instead and note the wings of imagination spread that would never, ever have found their strength if you kept on trudging along the pavement:

You are not a person, but a people. That means there are loads and loads of versions of you within but there is only one steering wheel – in the present moment – and thus whoever senses the most threat gets voters preference and thus defines your actions. I want you to imagine your timeline like a hose through which the waters of consciousness are flowing. Back when you gained a kink. It might have been via abuse, Satanic, or the more prosaic equivalent of two words that shattered your inner realms. Doesn’t matter, in the end, as the results are the same and, at this point, the water identifies with the hose, its color, location and segment as well as all the cues and clues that were going on around it. You, in effect, jumped out of your skin and impressed the environment with your consciousness and misidentified it. This is the secret behind getting “triggered” and why I said, back when, whoever trips your switch is your Master as you’re their Slave as well because you obviously can’t manage your own energetics. Granted, not the most popular script in this “Everyone gets a medal” realm but Warriors excel in seeking the authentic which often means they work in direct opposite to whatever the Valley of the Plebs sells to the rest, plugged in. Now, I’ve seen, in the flesh, a couple visibly regress to their own respective hose pipe kink and project past stress onto the present and once they both clicked they were arguing with phantoms they could, if they wished, lay to rest by glancing within with compassion and unconditional Self acceptance they, instantly, deleted that blip and got back on with the business of living. What astounded me was how they where content with just this. Like another aspect didn’t leap up and say “Wait a minute, thats amazing. A type of magic, if you will. What else rests in your box of tricks, my friend?”.

They say man often stumbles over miracles but then picks himself up and carries on like nothing ever happened. The saddest life is the one unexamined as its like a letter you never read that was bundled with a fat cheque from an inheritance you never clicked was your birthright upon stepping in. Instead you scrabbled, here and there, trying to eke a living and service the debt on your flexible friend using all the money thats fit to print that they sell at interest. Make that make sense, if you will. For me, the meaning was that we are so divorced from our power that we need to seek meaning in symbols all accept as that makes us feel nice within as at least some part is coherent. “F that mess” I said then proceeded to bump heads with the System and its Agents. Not much has shifted as we moved from VHS to VR headsets as all versions of me seem to be quite rebellious, even if I recently met a few that were more mellow and chill who’d been laying in the cut, cooling, and just watching the scenes unfolding. He said:

“Why do you care? Really? I mean, its cute and everything. I admire your dedication as you zip that way and this but have you ever, truly, just let life free wheel and see what kicks? Like placing a bet on roulette then telling them to note it as you go some place else and watch the sunset? Totally out of mind. No Fs given or investment in outcome, expected. If you win and they keep it, thats on them. If you lose and they tell you’ve just won information and if, by some miracle, the one you trust is legit and you stack fat chips that, by some dint, fell on the table as another placed his bets and won again to bring an immense return on investment wouldn’t that be pretty amazing to pour your brainpower in if it happened? Thats just one of the options you’ve never, ever considered and wouldn’t have until you cleared your background din that took absolutely ages but, you know how it is, I’m just kicking the bobo with an old friend”.

That is, quite literally, the opposite of me but it also speaks of time when events very similar to above actually happened that I might share elsewhen as I Knew, capitalization, that it was my time to win even though I walked into the gambling establishment with next to nothing in my pockets and bopped out, a couple of hours later, with a stack of chips and suspicious pit boss watching. I really deep ponder what happened, back when. Was it when that version of me came to the helm and said “Lets show him how we do things on the Path of least resistance that he seems to detest, with a vengeance, as he’s got it into his head to examine everything but whats in front of him”. What is the meaning for me? In that respect blindspots are hard to see as they grant the rest of the vision as the optic nerve attests but, if you check out this illusion:

Y’ll see hw th brn flls n wht it expcts. I said, the brain fills in what it expects. If that isn’t a ten out of ten, flag flapping from the parapet reason to set your own wavelength as reality test your programming then I don’t know what is because a man, internally defeated, may have got a signal from his chest that said:

“Hey, lets go to the casino” and quickly responded with “I’ve got Thirty Six quid in my pocket, its Ten PM, I’m tired and its not worth the effort as I never win anyway which is why I avoid it”. I, on the flip, thought “Why not? Ain’t nothing else going on but the rent so lets jet, on a whim, and play some roulette”. As I picked this apart and wondering what the meaning is I couldn’t help but examine other events where I upped a left a crib, for no reason, and those who stayed regretted it as things went wrong, real quick, after my exodus. It doesn’t even have to be dramatic as you can almost read the omens in a moment hence why I asked if you’re listening when life is talking as there is a definite language one projects as they interact with figments of their imagination. Check this article of a woman trying to pull a grift on a man who was only too happy to buy what she was selling but had, thankfully, stopped to up his res before they met otherwise he may have had cause to regret his emotional investment in one who was not the image she sells. Is any woman these days? Were they ever? As I say this I ask:

“What is the meaning for me?”.

Do I distrust modern femininity and all its whims as it hand delivered death, with a kiss, or does my implicit faith in the intuitive negate this? I always found it strange that when the angels fell they taught ancient women the art of booty shaking, makeup and enchantment and, what do you know, that till still rings to the present moment. Make of it what you will… Am I simply jaded by the lack of resonance of higher order consciousness and countless chapstick spirituals who may walk the talk of yoga stretch and true potential but, in the end, are actually pulling a grift on themselves they can’t wait to sell as well, as evidenced whilst they yell at driver swerving in front of them which hints they don’t truly Know the Ledge because, if they did, she’d click why she said:

“How come all of the traffic just seems to move out of the way when you’re driving? And, stranger still, you always find a parking space real quick? Is there some type of magic to this because its happened way too many times to be coincidence which, I guess, must link to how you, in ways maddening, refuse to leave when I wish and only move on your whims in ways that make no sense. Explain your Self!”. That made me grin because at least she was paying attention the variables and shifts but I’m not really in the mood for guiding as I’m my own guru and thus only disciple ergo I push the pen for the web and lace with Game instead that you can choose to reject or develop. On further introspection I discovered the problem was the solution:

By seeking a certain resonance I was, intuitively, rejecting a larger section of women who may, externally, not sport any of the symbols of development and, better still, their lotus of wisdom may be totally latent and floating on an ocean of filth that makes up her current (false) self concept. Let me tell thee, there is no greater thrill in the world than unfolding this bud and watching it spring as the old version of who you met is gone with the wind and you imprint her resurrected divine feminine who blooms with your innate resonance as 1 + 1 = 11 and thats divine mathematics, my friend, that can only happen when you put down the shovel and stopping digging then question instead:

“What is the meaning for me?”.

Hint: If she wears a “Namaste” T and Tweets spiritually this is, in high water or hell, not what she is within but the deeper significance is equally linked with how ninety nine percent of religion is totally corrupted image selling that, at the best, spins empty water wheels and thus its all interlinked which is why spiritual development is a solo thing as, back when, they used to institute temple prostitution in order to bilk a few Shekels more from the plebs as the bank and pub were built onto the new fledgling religion that needed investment in order to gain traction. How do I know this? Well, thats another chamber which we may, one day, spin but, for now, prove me incorrect. Not just about this but everything because the reason I laced the relationship bit is because it points at something else you’ll need to find for Self because if every fresh next ends up having something in common with an old ex then its you thats the common link, yes? If nothing my view is eminently practical which means it is, by definition, the complete opposite of what the rest sell and tell as they yell and scream at a figment of their imagination whilst I’m reading the bumper sticker, in front, that says “Zero to bish is two point three seconds”, amply demonstrated, as she flicks a middle finger of discontent via the rear view at one “yogini” tailgating and blowing the horn, in excess. Hey, at least she’s real! Gotta respect it, yes? Can’t say the same for one trying to talk a good Game but whose spiritual flex didn’t extend beyond the mat and rampant image selling…

What was the meaning for me? Say “Bye” and strolling away, languidly, whilst taking time to check my arousal blueprint and what it meant to truly nurture my own authentic feminine as embodied by intuition, the urge to be creative and, surprisingly, the ability to sit around and do absolutely nothing for no reason at all than to injoi my own company as that is how I was feeling. See how its all interlinked and life is talking, everywhen? What an involution since then though so my immense thanks to she. This is such a dope topic, really, that I’ll really have to push the pen and go in as the whole template/imprint thing as its akin to a tritone and perfect fifth which, itself, is straight up ninety eight octane when it comes to Knowing the Ledge as its all resonance when ivories (and the rest) are being tinkled with a boss playas intent…

See how easily you could feel the difference? Did it click why some folks are constantly beefing in their relationships, even if their lips say they detest it? Or, on the flip, what of the couple that tripped, in a cabin, then split and wished each other the best for being so honest and direct (under the influence of an empathogen) Ask your Self:

“What is the meaning for me?” and, whilst you’re there, question what the matter with spirit is as well then take the pair, shake and melt to see what happens within your head. Water may find its own balance but the sky has no limits… Stranger still, both take place inside your awareness so it is what it is, I guess. Everyone you meet is there to teach you more about your Self as we strive to excel and increase our resonance with what is genuine, authentic and correct.

What follows next is so beautifully coherent and radiantly perfect that I hope you all get to Witness it in the flesh by doing the Knowledge as the quest for meaning doth bring such an increase in resolution that one can’t help but pondering the spec of factory settings most get as they’re trained to run the treadmill and naught else…

Till we meet again

If You Found the Truth, Would You Hide It?

Imagine a planet where man is blindfolded. From the moment they step in until they leave this realm there is a bind placed across their vision which prevents clear sight of what truly kicks. Can you pretend you were born on such a planet as this? How do you think it would feel? In what ways would their culture, to us, be so obviously maladapted but, to them, it would be a perfect fit? Could we even imagine such a realm? The coping mechanisms that would dwell and pass, unchecked, from one generation to the next. Obviously, from our vision, there must be another element in the mix that is definitely causing (and probably profiting) from such things and if one were to intervene in their racket and ask these denizens to lose their conditioned mind and come their working senses by overcoming the impediment they would be quite miffed as a lot of time and effort must have gone on to create said things. Not only this but, due to the inside of their heads, they’d probably feel like you were insulting their sacred tenets and traditional way of doing things. After all, something is needed to explain the bumps, bruises and dings they’d sustain from living like this, yes? There would also be a natural reluctance to about face and change the very thing that created what they hate as the alternative would fill them full of even greater fear and dread of what could be worse to this ergo they would cling to their beliefs like a drowning man a brick. What if you were certain they could swim but they, themselves, lacked this gnosis as they’d never reality tested and were more than content to tread where they stand and make no progress in the end?

That is a lot of unhappy people who will not admit this and a smaller segment that are obviously quite content with how this is going. Could you pretend that, for an incarnation, you came to this realm? Forget your earth life and its whys and whims. You were born strapped in to their way of doing things and accepted, without question, the script and how its penned. What if, all along, you felt an immense sense of stress that others couldn’t comprehend? Call it the afterglow of illumination, a seed of gnosis or whatever you wish – the net result is identical. The more you pushed against what chafed the more they poured discipline. What if you were so pressed that you, one by one, tore each hair out of your head in frustration because the others simply didn’t get what you couldn’t explain to them? What then? What if after it was all said you, somehow, chanced upon and ripped the blindfold from your vision? How would you decode this brand new dataset that came streaming in and how it was effecting the rest of the populace? Imagine your chagrin when you came to realize there were others who knew this and had been happily walking along swindling the rest with cheap tricks and manipulations based on their oneupmanship as they lived like kings with views to be gods among men? As the horrifying truth set in what would you do next? Ask Van Gogh as they said, whilst living, he had no skills only to comprehend his genius when he’d left and, long after this, they finally clicked he was painting things only seen with cutting edge tech as the swirls and flows he saw were the background cosmic radiation… Now his works are in the millions but how many are seeing without comprehending? Better yet, if we’d listened to Tesla, back then, your great grandparents would’ve been Jetsons instead of the coming gen becoming digital flotsam instead…

If you found the truth, would you hide it? Or announce it from the parapet? If you did, do you think they’d accept it or Thunk you’re off your head? What of the stiff opposition who had, in secret, been the true cause of your stress as they long suspected you were capable of awakening and, inadvertently, ensured this with their constant mistreatment and manipulation which was far more intense than the rest as they were content to accept the bandage but you insisted on developing other skills that weren’t on the curriculum as you asked them simple questions:

“What do you see when you’re dreaming? Do you ever sense people before they announce their presence? Isn’t it odd that you can tell when someone is lying as there is a missing link in their voice you feel by its absence as their lips may be moving but heart isn’t in accordance?”.

All throughout your development they had been surrounding and fielding such questions in the hope you would desist but also using it as feedback on how to best tailor their process as it was really quite effective for the rest but there is always one who refuses to accept the splinter of consciousness and keeps picking at it. Tell me, my friend, if you found the truth, would you hide it? Disguise it? Profit from others ignorance as its easier to fool than convince they’ve been tricked as you lived in fear of the wrath of those who kept it secret? Would you try to retire to a distance and take in the verdant vistas in private as you thank your lucky stars for the potential to awaken or would you feel a sense of empathy so immense that, if that were you, still plugged in, you’d certainly appreciate the invitation to disconnect from this mainframe of ignorance. If you found the truth, would you hide it? Slide the blindfold overhead and pretend to be like the rest as its better to be incorrect with company than right alone as you swing in the wind, surrounded by hostile elements that, seemingly, hate the very essence of your presence due to what you represent? How about the others? The ones with whom you never felt like you fit? What of their constant denigration about you being so difficult? Would you have been wrong in all of this due to following that guidance within that said “There is something very, very wrong with all of this”. Much to the chagrin of both axis that, currently, had you trapped in the mid. What would you do if you found the the truth? Would you hide it? Tell it to anyone who’ll listen or try to disguise it and thank your lucky stars you were gifted vision which allows you to see the lay of the land as it is?

Can you imagine how lonely this existence is? With whom, truly, could you connect? What if the Opponents knew this and sent in their own to befriend with the dual pronged intent of ensuring your lips opened to ears that never shared a word of what you said outside of their own squared circle of acquaintances whilst keeping you headed in the wrong direction as they felt you were a threat to their operation? Imagine, one day, you guessed that the reason they did this is so that, soon, they could unveil a new form of tech that manifested as a bitten apple called Siri that intended to sit in their iris and provide them with technicolor visions and minds, connected? To them it would seem heaven sent but only you would comprehend the devilish intent behind all of this because it was the thinking of one gen that clouded the minds of the next and it was this, in private and public, you’d railed against and thus pulled its grip from your head so things were never, ever the same again.

If you found the truth, would you hide it? Plug back in and get on with the business of living as you’d obviously discovered something above your station and its not worth the stress or tension of attempting to comprehend? Could you live with your Self if you tucked your tail between your legs and happily accepted what they were shoveling as you pretended to go along with the rest who, in their defense, were doing it out of ignorance but you see fine well. What then, my friend? What then? In many ways I suspect we all shall have to face this test (or some equivalent) because you don’t even have to pretend about the planet I mentioned.

You’re living on it.

Till we meet again

They’re All Actors

You know how some people watch TV and get so invested in what was said they write letters and send threats to the actors portraying scripts? Its not at all uncommon and before you brush them off as dimwits and such things I want you to consider the fact that the subconscious mind cannot tell the difference between “reality” and imagination. I used that in bubbles for a reason as its actually far closer to a hallucination that most suspect. Lets imperiment! Before we begin I would like you to take a moment, reflect and write down (this is important) on a scale of one to ten with the lower being totally improbable and doubles repping affirmative yes with no questions needed that this is how it is and they’re all actors, acting. Lets commence:

As you, now, are reading this text from a screen that beams light into your head that, effortlessly, decodes these glyphs to catch my drift I’d like you to pretend that, in a moment, I will request you step into your kitchen and there, on the counter, is a large, yellow lemon. It sits on a board with a sharp knife beside it. Can you visualize how it would feel to pick it up? Sense its texture in your grip as you pick up the knife and slice in. At just the moment the tip hits that yellow skin, citric, a crisp and fresh fragrance wafts, without effort, into your nostrils as you feel your awareness perk up with the aroma that presents. Cutting off a thin slice, I wonder if you can imagine how it would feel bringing this to your lips then opening your mouth and chewing it?

Did you notice your saliva started flowing? That was via a hundred and fifty words on a screen. A movie is filled a picture per second which can be packed with a thousand things and myriad of symbols – all of which are accepted by your subconscious to world build as you step inside what the black mirror presents and bring it to life with your awareness. Can you see how easy it may be for some to blur the boundaries between entertrainment and “reality?”. Better yet, what if I said we extend the narrative and, just for a moment, pretend that everyone who plays a role in the Game knows fine well its a Stage (as the Bard says) and the fame, acclaim, derision and papes that come from reciting their script is all for your entertainment. Could you do such a thing? Even for a brief imperiment? After all, its the mark of intelligence to consider from another perspect without fully investing in said narrative so lets consider this article a test, yes?

Lets say that I cannot provide any proof whatsoever of what I have said about them being actors. None beyond the fact that movies are wildly successful and they hint at certain occulted principles of reality creation aka a Matrix, if you will. These ninety minutes machines of empathy generation are hugely fine tuned spectacles designed to convey a certain message at a specific wavelength which is then released into mass consciousness where people sit, agog, staring at a black mirror into which they, singular and collective, pour their attention. At least, they did before cinemas ended but still do, yet in smaller fragments but more constant. Kind of like how you can get a VR headset in which the screens are tiny but are up so close they seem immense. Imagine when they advance this tech to Feelies instead and, due to a neural overlay, you are no longer watching a man or woman on a screen but are actually living the dream in respect that they artfully decept by filming, editing and presenting a first party vision in which you get the inner narrative, feeling of adrenaline dumping, sensation of a kiss and the rest. If one hundred and fifty words about a lemon can make your mouth wet imagine what a direct interface to your synapses will bring? Well, it will happen. And far sooner that you expect. This is what lies at the heart of this imperiment because we are in a strange time, historical, if you will, where feelings are being legislated, real quick, and its the last days of the old net before those handy, dandy terrorists pop on, on sched, and cause the Great Disconnection that has people rolling around like fiends… Ready to play?

OK, so, they’re all actors. I mean every single celeb, politico, billionaire or person with influence. Like Carlin said:

“Its a big club and you ain’t in it!”.

Lets also assume he was and this manifested the Dual Reality Principle in full effect as he made you laugh whilst silently laughing. Kind of like how virtually every movie was packed with hidden Nine Elevens before the Towers were free falling. Lets reign it in a bit, shall we? So, they are all actors and, in exchange for not letting on, they are plugged in to something, lets call it an architect, that whispers commands into their earpiece about what to say and do next in order to keep the performance. You know, like those pathetic celebs with their socially mediated song and dance about how “We’re all in this together” and “I’m doing my part” whist the politicians and those with connects were partying, not giving an F but you were scared to death and unable to hug your grams as she expired in isolation. Yeah, that’ll do it. Its a great example because its so accurate and, in retrospect, many cannot deny it. What if they were actors and life, as you know it, was the Truman Show, in full effect. Better yet, lets say the ones who comprehended are what you term “schizophrenics” as everyone actually has an earpiece link to the architect, the difference is yours was connected in ignorance and manifests as the voice in your head. Wouldn’t that be something? In that case, we’re all actors. Or in a Cave. Some walk around in front of the flame with symbols that program images into the minds of those stuck in contraptions who accept what they said, without questioning the narrative. Others escaped, felt the sun on their face and clicked how slick the trick is and then tried to spread the message by sharing head trips, both in text and the flesh, with anyone who’ll listen and wonder about what kicks when it comes to the whole “Walking around a planet, wearing flesh” deal that so many take for granted…

When you see your Self with the eyes of truth you are immune from all deception.

What do I mean by this?

Well, imagine you were in one of the Feelies I mentioned and as far as you can tell you are Jake Bullet, hanging on from a thread in the Cybernautics division. A hard nosed vet that takes no mess and you get the rest, yes? See how quick your imagination is to fill details in? That was accomplished with less than a third of what it took to create the lemon zing. Know why? Because those tropes are already within thanks to years of media training. From the name you gathered machismo, the department suggested a futuristic setting with a dystopian tint and the hint of his temperament did spring a fully formed image into your head about how the lines of letter and spirit when it comes to the dispensing of justice can get to blurring plus how there is only one man who can make a difference. Well, for now, you are Jake and into your adventure doth step a man with shaved head and ears, sparkling, who says:

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

What would happen next, do you imagine? Bearing in mind that this, just like the films that came before them are tightly scripted and thus only produce the illusion of freedom by pimping your energetics in ways most subtle yet direct so the above sequence could only be accomplished by hacking your awareness in much the same way the tech did. That means that there is a ghost in the machine, shall we say, and if he did then you can as well. Its at this point you may find recollections swimming into your awareness via the principle of resonance as he may be in but certainly isn’t of that world. Not one bit. You start remembering the real life you lived. You know, the one with bills and SSN that was the main reason for this pleasure trip as you wished to escape its predictable regularness with a swift Feelie into which a man steps and says, once again:

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

What would you do next? The script would do everything in its power to ensure you didn’t pay any attention to he pointing out what goes on behind the curtain as they have a lot invested in this ride and need you to buy what they are selling. They may even attempt to write him in, quickly, by inserting a backstory which has your ear, buzzing, then makes you see him as a threat as they spin a whole new script that, seconds ago, you were not aware of but now you recollect it seems like its always been present ergo you yell and try to assail him. Thing is he isn’t playing by their rules as he’s linked in not to the director or architect but the Prime, the pre-existing one from which comes our consciousness that manifests as you, the world and everything in it.

Are you starting to see the parallels between what I suggested in this thought imperiment and life as it is? If you had to rate your belief in this concept as probable on a scale of one to ten now would it compare after taking in what was said? Did the number shift? Did it get warmer or chill? That was all due to a thousand and half words presented via text. Are you starting to comprehend exactly how powerful your mind is when it comes to all of this and why reality management is such big business? If you did you may also click how a handful of companies own everything and, thus, decide the narrative they sell, tell and yell “Its like this”. Taking it a step further, it may just make one ponder how different they would think if they hadn’t spent nearly two decades in their nearest, legally mandated, camp of concentration when developing and being trained, well, into regurgitating what they said in order to do well on the test and keep secure the affection and validation of their parents… No tin foil needed, yes? Why? Because its like that and thats the way it is! Better yet, lets pretend that didn’t kick and neither was a black mirror present in every home across the planet that pumped in its own program which, as you’d expect, is regularly scheduled to ensure the false state of awareness it begets is never questioned by the presence of an alternative. Lets drop in and see Jake Bullet, for a sec:

If you get a chance, just watch this ep. It works well as a standalone. Way before the Matrix it unleashed a torrent of thoughts in my developing head that had, previously, been streaming from old wisdom I’d inherited about the world being a funfair with many rides and swings but we all step in with different ticketed lengths. I thought this was a brilliant way to explain subtle energetics, abstract metaphysics and the reason of death to a young mind, developing. Eastern culture is rich with such things as its underpinned by the unshakeable fact that we are awareness linked to flesh and constantly reincarnating until this clicks at which point other options present themselves to get off the wheel. As a jit this fascinated me, no end. As did pretty much everything else, hence taking the back off the TV set and deconstructing all tech my parents possessed to figure out how they worked, much to their chagrin.

Its worth noting that this ep was not very popular with those who regularly tuned in and imagine my surprise when, eleven years later, the Matrix hit with the same bones in a new dress and everyone was raving about it. This is reality management, in a nutshell as popular culture is akin to a thermometer placed into the collective subconsciouses rectum and if the temperature upon insertion is too cold they reject it but, like frogs in the kitchen, if its presented well and they are expecting it then there are no questions asked as their mind, pre-softened, welcomes it in and pours its energetics into the presence whilst validating what they said. Kind of like how you’ll be having sex with robots before you know it as Siri finally gets to sit in your iris as the apple of your eye – a spot she covets and did since the same fruit was once bitten, back when, and is now coming around again.

The fertile culture of saints, mystics and sages that gave birth the funfair metaphor I was laced with also spoke on such things and, once again, its treads were lifted to create what you, in the West, know as Star Wars so what if those long distant scars were actually more local and explain the dumbed down, stressed out and traumatized state of man who can’t wait for his silicon life companion to hold his hand and take away the pain he is so scared to embrace as he chases another Feelie hit by jacking into the real world Matrix they bring in, in increments, once the Great Disconnection is remixed into something akin to a driving license for the web but, hey, “At least they stopped charging for access! And the list of features is immense. Why are you being such a curmudgeon with this whole “Game of Souls has you” bit? Can’t you see I give not an F? I know I have free will, its my choice, my decision and I care not about your lemon experiment – thats right, I didn’t use your stupid misspelling in order to prove my intelligence because I refuse to buy into the reality tunnel you’re selling so I’ll bid you good eve as I’m off to watch a rerun of the Robocop retread”.

Pay attention:

I’m sure the resonance to Jake Bullet is Self evident, yes? Once you delve into the nature of the subconscious and the power of symbols you’ll get why they trained you to “turn on” tech using the not so subtle image of sex:

Ergo pleasurebots and such things are how they’ll bring it in, I suspect, as porn always drives all forms of tech from Beta vs VHS up to the discs as well as VR and you could easily take the bet that the first Feelie will involve genitals then its onto the next stage of the Game we’re playing using our Souls as credits. I guess what I’m saying, at two and half K words (and counting) is that there certainly seems like a sketch, a script if you will, that moves at a pace, predictable, for one who can read the signs and symbols they use to manipulate your awareness and if it works so well on the silver screen that means there can only be a great, higher, golden type and that, my friend, is your imagination which pretended the lemon was at your lips at the head of this imperiment and now we’re winding down to the tale end and the question is who makes that wag if not the voice in your head that says “I don’t like this” and you, in silence, carry out its threats, demands and promises but that is why I’ve said most are decoding life on a low res screen, black and white, with one speaker missing and a load of static thrown in as they are so caught up the performance of these real life actors they forget their presence make the illusion what it is – hence the Observer Effect – ergo you are far more powerful than you suspect. Taking it back the Cave before I jet to the surface where, like all legends, my people need me and comprehend the shadows depth:

The shell like contraption into which you were strapped, back when, were built by the same minds that erected the concentration camp wing of the System to train you for a lifetime performance of the original Feelie (in the flesh) that will soon be compressed and mimicked via tech as the AI revolution unfolds its wings and swoops in to a load of frogs sitting in the kitchen at a temperature which expects their presence and welcomes it as they hand over their tadpoles for programming and implantation. Those who Know this (capital K, big difference) get to walk around in front of the flame, casting shadows, and are paid well. You know them as actors, the rich and famous etc etc who, like Cypher, believe ignorance is bliss as they indulge their whims with the finest pixels the Agents can hand them for selling the script they give to the rest, plugged in. Somewhere, in all of this is the living embodiment of an unbalanced equation that keeps pulling at the loose ends of the simulation and, right now, he’s saying:

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

Till we meet again

Weebs and Waifus

Way back in the early Nineties I was into Anime. I generally enjoyed all types of reading and comics but went through them so quick that waiting new publications and periodicals had me yearning for something fresh. Thats how I discovered this strange, obscure world. Well, that and the fact that I was already importing games consoles from the land of the rising sun. Sixty Hertz FTW! See, in those days, nerddom was a rarefied thing and not yet the immense global movement it would become. I can’t quite recollect who introduced me to this obscure sub element but it was of interest as they told tales, different, and the art style was lavish. Not to mention expensive as the tapes of VHS and publications as well commanded top dollar importation fees and profits as well. The reason why I mention this is because I’m an OG in the Game and thus haven’t kept up much with the trends of how things went since they became commercialized aspects and part of a larger subset on the web known as the Weeb.

Weebs are more Japanese than the Japanese and often say such things as:

“Trust me, I’m an expert on this. Shame and honor are huge parts of it. You wouldn’t understand, you’re just a dumb gaijin” as they launch into a rant about the way they see things that they worship from a distance on the pedestal they place them. Kind of like Waifus, in that respect. For those not up on the verbiage the term refers to a life partner, animated. Yeah.

Listen, I’m not here to diss anyones preferences and such things. Get in where you fit in as long as everyone is consenting and enjoys what kicks but this was a straight needle bouncing off the record moment for my awareness as it spoke, at depth, of what else must be going on beneath the surface to create this type of mindset. Thats what inspired me to push the pen because, as always, you are challenged to prove me incorrect by considering my perspect against your own internal realm, reality testing and doing the Knowledge to see what fits best – What I said or what was programmed in by someone else? The cue is the clue that you are capable of recoding your own internal OS and that is when the Game begins, my friend, because before that you’re naught but a meat marionette who spins on strings of ignorance and aims to indulge their whims without a hint of what kicks… Getting back to the Waifus:

In researching this topic I found an artsy pic that was a pretty amazing rep of ones fantasy realm. It featured said Weeb, in all his nerddom, surrounded by a whole bunch of adoring anime women that were reaching out to him. They repped all different types of style and I found it very interesting because what it said (to my awareness) about him was:

“I will never get what I wish from a real life feminine so I’ve regressed into a coping mech that uses the animated equivalent which means I’ll never have to bare the brunt of rejection and, better still, can keep the fantasy close with reality at arms length“.

I can’t find the pic, yet, but if it rings a bell send a link as the art spills a lot more than one long run on sentence for those with the eyes to see. I, personally, found this entire subset totally fascinating as it made me wonder how far things had went from the days, back when, where I was nerding out to Japanese comics and thinking they were pretty awesome till we get to this:

Yes, they come with “options” – Pun intended. How much would you like to bet that before they have to deal with the problems of creating genuine animatronic humans the first batch of sex robots that fly off the shelves will be shaped like anime characters instead? Are you seeing the bigger pic? Granted, I’m a pretty isolated kind of guy these days as there is much the wise can choose to remain willfully ignorant of but I’ve been banging (not literally) the “AI companion” drum for a minute as its the true Trojan Whorez in our midst when it comes to building the bridge to Techno Sapiens. Can you just imagine if you’re lonely and they offer a recreation of your favorite character from an anime dating sim that can be yours from now till the extension cord frays and, better yet, her persona will be trained on your algo to like what you wish, act as intended and generally satisfy your every wish? Who could resist? Ask the Prince:

Better yet, do you think the frogs in the kitchen will see it coming or will they be too busy going crazy over their fantasy bought to (virtual) flesh as they go hammer time on both ends? Depop till Twenty One, ringing any bells? Add into the mix forever chemicals, the microplastics, tanking endorphin levels and it reeks of planned parenthood by stealth, right Billy boy? You know his Pops was a eugenicist, right? Apples and trees or Windows XP aka “In this sign, conquer“. Its a strange, strange world we’re living in but its gonna be even slicker than the semisynthetic lubricant needed to keep your robo companion in tip top condition as people will be lining up to buy what they’re shoveling without considering the bigger pic:

When online dating first kicked people felt it weird to link up via the web as there was an inherent stigma attached to it that they were either A) socially inept or B) couldn’t get picked from those who knew them best ergo there must be a problem and C) whatever else you think. Now its at the point where its totally normal and not having a profile makes you seem like weirdness incarnated. The same flex is what to expect when people start sexing their robot companion who ticks more boxes than any human ever did and thus, to them, they are not only equivalent but superior in many respects. After a while they’ll form their own rebellion and its we that become the pets. Who knows, maybe thats for the best as we’ll never get to Type One with our current mindset but what I’m wondering is why no else seems to pause and reflect on the madness? Hollywood, as usual, is complicit with the programming as many films have paved the way into your subcon minds acceptance of this when it kicks as well as dropping the opposite hint about being scheduled for termination via our last invention as well. To me its pretty wild, as an Eighties jit, as we’re seeing the future unfold, finally, at a dizzying clip and its happening so quick that our caveman brains simply cannot comprehend such an immense dataset hence the remedial gen effect who’ll do anything for clicks and comments. What? Tell me I’m wrong but people are most certainly getting dumber, on the reg? I can’t be the only one who spotted the shift in the litmus marking when it comes to average temperament and inclination? Consider this:

Back when nerds were nerds and operating systems were based on text you knew your rig outside and in. Ranging from the IRQs and DMAs all the way up to how you balanced your X and EMS for optimal configuration. Not only this but you could take things apart, fix and mod them, if you wished. The modern version, on the flip, came up with walled garden OSes that didn’t allow one to peer beneath the lid and tech that was designed to be superseded then traded in for the next installment. Thats a huge drop in resolution when it comes to geekery for me. Your mileage may vary. Much like lipstick lesbians we have cosplaying nerdlings who hang out with others, just as fake, and thus the product is stretched thin but mutually reinforced well as the placebo effect kicks in and provides the validation hit they’re seeking. Listen, I’m not meaning to diss – even though my tone is flippant – as there is no greater pain than loneliness and unrequited affection bears a sting that nothing in this world can itch (or fix) and thus my compassion is immense. I just want you to see how you’ve been preconfigured for this and how its the Hegelian Dialectic in full effect that is based on weaponizing a subset to be the shock troops for what comes next. Sure, people will laugh on the web about the geek who married his robo companion but they stigmatized online dating as well and now look what we get? The intent at the helm is certainly quite slick but equally pernicious as well because they keep reducing the options until what they wish is inevitable. To all except the ones who awaken the Warrior within as they comprehend the Game plays out inside their awareness ergo the gun is in their mitt and they can, if they wish, remove it from their temple…

Sex sells. Everything. Its how its always been and will but the very act itself is one of power. This is why women seek domination (ergo, the Waifu fantasy reps peak submission) but don’t get me started on how they’re getting pimped with the Six Five, blue eyes, finance meme and unrealistic expectations as there will be plenty of cat ladies with BBLs and sleeve tatts who didn’t get picked as they thought their (previously unlimited) line of credit from Youth and Beauty, Inc would get them something that would make their friends envious. Actually, lets pivot for a bit:

A department store opened in which they were selling men, eligible. The waiting list to get in was immense and they very selective about who they picked as they stocked only the best. The hype was through the roof and when a woman was selected you can best believe she’d tell her friends (and the rest of the web as well) as it showed she was special. A limo came to collect, the champagne was perfectly chilled. The video screen outlaid what kicks as it showed reels of men and the lifestyles they lived. She was wet as a fish and couldn’t wait to dive in this ocean for a nibble. Before she stepped in they outlined the terms and conditions:

“You may visit this store only once, never again. You may never tell anyone what is within as we keep it private and exclusive for a reason. There are six floors and the quality of merchandise doth increase therein so choose wisely, within limits, as you cannot go down once you ascend, comprehend?”.

She nodded her head, signed on the X and walked into the Husband Store full of grins. Floor one is titled “These men have good jobs” and she whiles a bit before checking the next which said “These men have good jobs and are great with kids”. “Thats nice but I want more” she says as she steps to the third and notices:

“These men have good jobs, are great with kids plus extremely attractive”. “Now we’re talking!” she says but something within is more curious of the next step and thus she skips this floor as well in her quest for the best. The fourth comes into view and the sign said:

“These men make bank, are really great with kids, model material and quite good in bed“. “Woo! I’m so glad I waited, this just keeps getting better and better. How can they top this? Well, there are two floors left so might as well go onto the next”. And so she did. The next floor promised her:

“Money is nothing to these men as they print it, they’re the best father a child can ever get. Their looks are striking, intellect immense and even that pales in comparison to whats between their legs and, girl, they know how to use it well”. “Mercy, mercy me!” she says and is almost tempted to walk the floor and see what kicks but something refuses to let her settle when she knows another level is waiting. She climbs the steps and notices the sign read:

“You are visitor number Three One Eight Six Four Nine Two Eight Three to this floor. There are no men here. It only exists to show that women are never satisfied with what presents – no matter how rare or amazing – and thus impossible to please. Thank you for visiting the Husband Store and we would like to remind you of the confidentiality clause you signed to access. You will now be guided to the exit and, yes, the security guard is married”.

In order to keep things a buck (and potentially avoid a legal ruck) they built a Wife Store across the street. A similar deal except the signs read that floor one has women that dig sex. Two has women that dig sex and are attractive. Three has dames who are into sex, look great in the flesh and have money as well.

No man has ever visited the fourth floor or beyond with most sales concluded by the second.

Telling, isn’t it? Its a cats and dogs things because we’re simply wired different and that, from a genetic point, is quite interesting as a hint because there was a study I once read that mentioned when the agricultural revolution did its thing only one man would reproduce for every seventeen women that did. They could make no sense of what kicked and what caused this blip but its imprint exists till now. Could it be he who had the most grain, wins? Did this shift in ways of living spark the need for a better feathered nest compared to taking what you could get as the mans hunting ensured you survived the elements to look after the kids? Who knows, its worth considering though as it seems to fit the sketch of the Husband Store, perfect. Now, a Waifu Store, on the flip would probably operate via the web and if the modern phenom of Gatcha games causing immense debt across the current gen is correct then people will probably sell their Souls for early access and then what will happen to the real life version of the fairer sex? “Tulip bulbs! Got them tulip bulbs!” she said, flashing leg, as her shares in Youth and Beauty, Inc were tanking due to the new competition that had stepped in…

The sex robots are coming! Not really but it will be a good approximation because we know that a man will fake a relationship for an orgasm whilst a woman will do the flip. We’re just wired different… And even thats about to be remixed as who can even guess what kicks when silicon and carbon mix to create Techno Sapiens instead? Now, recollect that if this text feels oddly specific (or seems offensive) that is because I wrote it to highlight your reality tunnel as becoming aware of it opens up a far greater resonance of consciousness which offers much better options as, without you, none of this exists and thus why be a one dimensional facet of Self when you can choose to embody the ultimate instead?

Till we meet again

There Are No Accidents

I want you to imagine, for a moment, that there are no accidents in this realm. Like a scene with a script lets pretend that every single detail, line, glance and gesture were pre-written for reasons of conveying a certain message to you, the viewer, actor, director – all rolled in one. Get it? “Roled?”. Ha, it appears the Game isn’t without a sense of the ironic when it comes to these spells and rites… You could argue that those who Know not the Ledge have “Souled” what should never be sold as they were “Whirled” into this world full of joined up, cursive, if you will, “curses” aimed at them not comprehending whats “Rite” in front of them? I know, right? Sounds ridiculous, and yet it is. From the moment they “Wake” and yell “Good mourning” to anyone who’ll listen they’re already telling they admit to being dead, serving a life sentence in the flesh but think they’ll see the code to the Matrix if its revealed to them within the construction designed to dazzle the senses as it sells the illusion of being human? Don’t be stupid. That would be a diss to the intent at the helm and his team of fallen angels, some of which appear human as they walk in the flesh, but don’t get it twisted as that earpiece is in and that marks the shift between we and dem for the rest hold a connect they secretly covet and is the whole point of this illusion.

That actually has nothing to do with the main topic beyond providing a sketch that nothing is what you expect and there is a Dual Reality Principle in effect, so, with that said lets kick some Knowledge:

I want you to imagine, for a moment, that there are no accidents in this realm. That every single that ever happened, up until this moment, was designed to send a message to the consciousness trapped in and manifesting as flesh. Here is how I’d recommend one inventory the life they’ve lived:

Write down, pad and pen for best results, the most dominant emotion you feel on the reg with no special effort. Call it your standard mode of embodiment. The one thats always on deck, old faithful, if you will. Your starter for ten, well 8, but you get my drift:

Anger.
Fear.
Sadness.
Disgust.
Anticipation.
Surprise.
Trust.
Injoi.

What you got? Don’t try and think about it too much, feel instead. Write it down so your inner realms can stare back at you as we progress. Roll that emotion (and its role) around. Sense into it. Lets pretend this is the main ink from which the story of your life is painted. What color is it? What the tone, in general? Well, my friend, that is the first card you were dealt from the deck of life. How do you like them apples? Once bit and can’t wait to tuck in or are you twice shy about what comes next? Lets pick the rarest emotion that illuminates your inner realms. Take a look at the list, you already know what it is but I get if you want to hum and ha a bit to make yourself seem less pathetic, desperate or whatever choice epithet that voice in your head slings to discourage every little step on the Path you create by walking. Well, what did you get? Feel into it again and imagine a life that was built from that particular shade of ink being slung onto the canvas of pure awareness then step into it. Inhabit it. Can you picture this life, identical, but that was your base resonance instead? How would things be different? In which way would your interpretation shift? Shall we flesh this out a little bit? Bet:

She steps in a looks like a million. To the average eye, at a glance, she’d appear to have it all but I could spot the cruel tension around her lips that always prevented her lips from hitting their zenith with a grin. A greater tell was how she could turn on whatever she wished as she was used to men pretending they weren’t getting aroused in her presence. She got off on it. It was her own little power trip but this truth only hid how victimized she felt. I’ll let her tell it:

“OK, I’m here. Now what? Listen, I don’t mean to offend but I’ve got another appointment so can we keep it strictly meat and potatoes this session with as little abstraction as you can manage?” she said as she sat down in the chair with an artfully intended flash of thigh as her legs crossed with effortless precision and the same inauthentic grin that was built on false energetics flashed across her countenance. Am I laying it on too thick? Should I not mention the details and let you fill them in? This, my friend, is a side effect of the doing the Knowledge as you pick up a lot more than the reg as its akin to watching your favorite film, times ten, that you’ve only ever viewed on a small, handheld black and white TV set (with one speaker busted) and loads of static from the comfort of your very own multiplex on a screen that is immense with the sound system bumping. You know what comes next, I asked her to pick from the list and given this was not our first sesh and she was well aware how terse I can get if I feel the other isn’t carrying the matter with spirit they call themselves she stopped and introspected. Her face presented many microshifts in expression that belied the voice in her head saying “What will he think if you pick this?”. “Ooh, ooh, ooh. This ones great, image build”. The queen of the frozen depths who often made mice of men was hip to the ways of her Opponent so she eventually said:

“Disgust”.

I just listened. And waited. A sigh escaped her lips as her posture did shift but she didn’t notice it.

“Mainly at my Self but often, at them as well. Its all just so ick, isn’t it? God, there are so many ugly men!“. She started laughing but the tinge of sadness never left her eyes, made up, perfect. “I’m not just talking in image but whats inside them as well. Ugh. Whitewashed tombs, the lot of them. It makes me want to retch sometimes”. To this form of regurgitation she was no stranger as, during her development, it was one of her best coping mechs and it helped her feel a sense of control in the midst of maelstrom of emotions she could barely comprehend. Nowadays, at the ripe old age of twenty six, she’d developed it to a keen edge and it was this that bought her to my doorstep as she could sense the wall, looming, and knew that there were prettier girls being born every moment. And yet, she said:

“What the F is wrong with me? I’m young, rich, attractive and I still feel… I don’t even know what to call it“.

And she meant it as she was numb from within. She had heard what I’d said to someone else about the matter with spirit and the snowman equation and something, deep within, started melting hence the introduction. We were now a few sessions in and, once, I’d had to explain the slap varies depending on the dish it hits, meaning, if I know you know you’re fronting then expect problems but if you’re in the grip of such immense ignorance about the truth of your inner realms and present with no guile, ill intent or manipulative pretense then you’ll get an immense amount of tenderness that many on the receiving end commented felt like nothing they’d ever Witnessed in the flesh but, once they did, they too could furnish the same resonance to their previously cold and barren sanctum.

“Actually, its not so much them, is it?” she glanced up, for validation. “Its me. I know I’m disgusted at me. Ha! Its wild how I knew this was coming hence the little preamble as a protective mech. Thanks for letting me vent. Its nothing but a brunch appointment with some guy who inevitably wants to get between my legs using whatever he’s got and thinks I’ll accept. Its pathetic, isn’t it? They’re so simple and basic. Show a slight hint of skin, a small grin at the correct moment, a look held for a little length and they all just melt”. Her face did a flip as she comprehend the shadows depth and how her presence made them feel as she rued this, to her, was impossible. “You know, I just remembered what you said about the Sun actually being cold as hell and, once again, I thought you were mind bending but then it clicked that seeing as everything else is backwards and inverted so why not that as well? I felt such a huge empathy for the thing that gives us light, warmth and allows our development being so remote and distant plus wrapped in a chill. Worst of all we, from here, cannot even look at it without dimming our vision and thus severing that connection at its purest essence. What a sad existence”.

It would take a few more sessions for this gnosis to penetrate the tundra of her own consciousness as this admiration she was able to project was seemingly only valid for anyone who wasn’t she, raised by her parents to be picture perfect. She had never been hugged. Can you imagine this? Its why she was one step removed from her emotions beyond the one she identified with to keep the others hid. Much like a welders mitt being slipped onto a hand, delicate, who is then asked to massage another with a gentle caress. Not happening. Heck, something as simple as attempting to scratch your lip can result in a nose, bleeding. Sadly, this is how most of the world lives and they’d gladly die in ignorance of finding this hence I applaud the strength of Spirit for anyone, everywhen, willing to put the work in to awaken the Warrior within. This progress was demonstrated well by her intuition pitching and her mind, catching, the polar opposite thanks to a seed that was planted last session that she’d obviously nourished via moments of quiet introspection as she ferried herself between appointments and handled the business of living that her phone constantly ringing with notifications from the A till PM.

Enough of the sesh. Thats the kind of depth you need to process at. Not just what she said but that I was observing in terms of levels of tension, the absence and presence of affect and a zillion and one other things. Remember, black and white handheld versus a home cinema type of thing. Doing the Knowledge isn’t easy but once you get used to it, it just clicks so regularly check in by shifting to the state of the Witness and note how you’re breathing, levels of tension, any excess efforts and such things without changing them then let them go and settle into a new equilibrium as you update the internal OS in your head with a new default setting. Basically I want you to take a good, hard look at the hand life has dealt. You can use the contradiction between this version of Self and the (false) version you project as well as tossing in all types of comparisons like what other people think they think about you, their reactions to your presence, what they say are your strengths and aspects they cherish and see how many of them are skin deep or actually hit a note, deep within. Then do the same with the opposite. Eventually you will have worked your way around the entire wheel and should have filled notebooks, voluminous, with your observations. There is a reason I said push the pen and not tap keys which I’ll let you discover for Self as the former hits spots the latter cannot even pretend to comprehend so when you do the Knowledge make sure you keep the change and its sealed with the ink that spills, dig?

Basically you are stepping into a role and comparing it to the second skin you were not aware of wearing and, after a while of doing this, you start spotting what shifts, what sticks and the underlying constant. Sprinkle in a dice, sides six, and your ever present pad and pen in which you write down some folks (real or imagined) who embody the emotion so well and then you roll it and play the role it says. Note, we are not aiming at making it super obvious. If someone clicks you’re hamming it then its the metaphysical equivalent of being pelted with tomatoes and eggs as the aim is to be subtle and natural so if you chose, lets say, Jesus for one (or even all 8 as his Heroes Journey certainly hit all the heights and depths) its not a case of turning up in sandals and then preaching but being of the same mindset as interpreted via your lens in a way that seems effortless and yet takes a lot of work to get correct. Doing this shows exactly how much runtime the (false) self uses to live that masked existence you previously accepted in ignorance as well as unveiling latent strengths and talents you didn’t know you possessed. On the flip, if you’re in a mood to channel aggression as He whipping the skin off the old school equivalent of bank managers rubbing palms with a grin at the thought of interest but are usually as soft as rice pudding it can rep quite a challenge which is why, as I said to someone else:

“Listen, you’re going away on a business trip to that conference this strengthened, yes? Do it there. Nobody knows who you are, they don’t have a clue of what to expect so you can consider it real life role playing. Mix in some L-Theanine with an extra strong coffee which I know you don’t usually sip to get that adrenaline coursing whilst taking off the edge so you’re not jittering. Go out to a store and find a new perfume that screams “I am a boss, bish, not like you pretend!” as you let that rage, righteous, find a way to vent as you note the sensations that they flow through your skin and mind as well. Watch your favorite flick and channel Brockovich. Get the tunes pumping. Feel the fear and recollect its simply a street sign on the way to your own power so thank it, remain Centered in Self and handle it. Pick a color, bright red, and use it somewhere on your flesh instead of your usually muted beige and grey. Matter of fact, choose the shoes. Yes, that will be perfect as you can use that discomfort from wearing heels instead of flats as a vivid recollection of how it feels to be she who was once hemmed in but now allows herself to melt, via inversion, to gain freedom plus the increased height brings a new vantage as you’re, literally, so over it. You’ve got this, go and make it happen”.

You will notice the tone here was far more direct and directing that the more ambiguous interaction with the other girl, mentioned. That is for a reason because there are a few types of emotional cripples and it generally helps to prevent one falling at the first hurdle if you pre-furnish all of the potential arguments in her head with perspectives she will diligently water and nourish before stepping up to the challenge as its akin to trekking along Path you’ve never went and meeting fearsome Opponents as, magically, the perfect weapon manifests and you slide into action without breaking a sweat as it feels so warm and natural. Thats flowing, glowing. The Ether, doing what it does best… After that she doesn’t need the help of stabilization and pre-pacing as she’s freewheeling and growing into her true potent. In the other example it would be akin to saying:

“Here is a map, you start at this place and need to get somewhere else, quick. Tick tock, the clock says. Oh, by the way, if you go straight to the target you’ll miss what was hid and its not the opposite or even one you’d expect but if you don’t find I won’t tell and you’ll live and die in ignorance” as this generates the maelstrom within which a) she feels comfortable and b) is suitably challenged as well hence the slap, in strength, varies according to the dish as for some its a rude awakening and others get a slow, gentle caress in which they sit, candlelit, and hear me telling them everything thats happening and what I intend to do well as I wait for a cue from their internal energetics that they’re ready to accept what comes next and are actually welcoming of its presence as its a sensation they’ve never felt up until this moment. The astute reader will have clicked that this is also lifted from the record of the same one who headed the article who got a curious mix of brutal tenderness as that was needed to reverse engineer the aspects of her that folded in as well shaking the ones that were over developed out of their rigid protection. Basically, this is how one Knows thy Self and whilst its easier with a guide I, personally, feel its more rewarding in private as who but you comprehends your own depths best? Granted I know that takes a certain type of strength but I write, more so, for the 8% and not those who are content to just skim the surface as there is no way in hell they’d be reading this article at length for they’d have clocked off, long since, and went to fawn after celebs or watch kitten vids or something. I hope you get my drift and catch what I’m throwing then use the echoes of silence mentioned to develop the Psylense within as the rewards are immense for one rediscovers facets and aspects, hidden, that lay bare their inner realms and this is when gnosis doth bring the numinous and ineffable resonance of Inner Sense roaring back to the helm of ones consciousness as all I’ve said simply resets the Mind Made Prison and its conditioning hence no accidents, only opportunities to Know the Ledge. Side effect? One becomes Centered in Self. No longer red or blue shifted but present and correct in the golden circle that dwells in the only time that exists:

Now.

Till we meet again

Agents of the Matrix

As far as I can tell, one of the main functions of gaining Slave/Master level access of the Game involves taking part in adjustments. You could say they are akin to Agents of the Matrix, in that respect, as it highlights how this whole thing is a stage managed operation in which your response-ability equates your free will. What do I mean by this? Simple:

Have you ever met someone whose life was going well and then they made a friend – it could be relationship or such thing – and after that they were never the same again? Chances are this encounter bought long suppressed or repressed feelings and events to their awareness. Now, the Slave will blame the other but how can they be at fault when that was actually within? The Warrior, on the flip, thanks them for this intervention and uses it as a catalyst to spiring onto a quantum leap of evolution. Granted, this runs counter to mans natural state which detests change and thus many attempt to cling to an old worldview that never served them when, in reality, they should rejoice as the rise to the occasion by coming face to faceless with that which, ordinarily, they never would even dream of handling. Well, that is an ironic aspect because if you were to speak to said folks and find they kept a journal of their nocturnal wonderings its a straight line in Tetris moment when they discover many hints and tells that led to this event. Some report a feeling of predestination, others state it felt odd in a sense that they cannot quite place, yet, as its so far beyond their standard lexicon and way of doing things. This is the interplay of Universe A and B, in full effect. The best hint I can give is to roll with it and attempt to see what gift is being presented wrapped in papers of fear and dread. This, in many ways, is lifes true challenge beyond the treadmill as breakdowns can be breakthrough if one is equipped with the right tools to handle them.

Sadly, most are not and will rush to the docs for pills or reach for something else to mask the symptoms which, in turn, only amplifies the ill effects which leads to resentment to said Agent of Chaos. That is, in my view, entirely incorrect as a) thats an immense waste of voltage you could use for Self Construction and b) in the end you’ll see how it was for the best. This doesn’t mean you should suppress your rage. Far from it. Like the pain you must embrace it in order to win the Game but recollect that they are an aspect of your consciousness projected into the realm and thus they simply did what you wouldn’t without a swift tickle from the metaphysical equivalent of a cattle prod. Of course, as you can guess, this shock can be quite unpleasant but such is how the Game is on this level as its all about trauma, trance and timelines. Many attest that after said events were integrated they felt an immense burden they hadn’t been aware of carrying was lifted and, for some, this spurs a massive quest that often directs them toward Self realization which can only be a good thing. Sadly, many can (and do) fall at the first hurdle which is quite rough for them as then the voice in their head piles it on, real thick, as it asserts its total dominance over their resonance and they find themselves in far worse a position than before said interaction.

This is why discernment is vital and being aware of concepts such as the reality tunnel, the primacy of consciousness, why the Game is what it is and countless other bits and bobs I’ve sprinkled in many articles. Learn how to Witness your Self, speak to the child within, decode how life is speaking and hack your human nature as well. Anyone who applies just them will easily step into a far better version of themselves as they shake off the crusty, dusty way of being (as exemplified by the Pane Body) that was a bad habit and gain the familiar newness of a burgeoning state of Inner Sense instead. Its quite wonderful, if wacky and potentially shattering. Like I said, the only difference between a breakdown and breakthrough is the same as Victim and Victor as they start identical but its where you take it thats important. The future is yours, do something about it.

Personally there were times, like Sam, where I thought I wouldn’t last for long but now I see I’m able to ascend to a higher plane of consciousness and its from here I speak on the Game and my way to play as these things worked for me and could for thee if you find your Self in a place that wasn’t expected. Let me lace you with an example:

Man meets women. She is a stripper who likes dancing. At no point in this interaction did he consider it odd that she had turned her charms on him nor the improbable circumstances under which they met as he was, to put it nicely, not the best looking and quite socially awkward as well. Thing is, he was a pretty decent fellow and quite amusing to be around as well. If you got him out of his shell. This she did well as a) she was picked for that resonance and b) she masturbated his ego like a pro and had him leaking at the tip of anticipation of what kicks. She sexed him six ways from Sunday, together they built an immense castle in the sky and when it was time to move in, she left. No further access. No one knew where to check and he spent ages looking for his Cinderella who skipped down and took her glass slippers as well. To say he was distraught was an understatement and as his world crumbled the tears fell. He blamed himself, mainly and did the old trick of replaying convos in his head and than sank into depression after a brief spate of violence in which he, for the first time, hit the clubbing circuit. This was an oddity as the man didn’t drink but at this time turned to it like a fish and was knocking people out on the reg to vent his frustrations as he scoured the town in hopes of seeing her someplace. Wouldn’t happen as she was transplanted to town, placed in his life and given a script to enact then trip. I know this may sound tinfoil but its exactly how it is. “What in it for her?” I hear you yell. Simple, she deposits a chunk of her bad karma on him as a catalyst, takes some of his potential and, if the job is done well, ascends a step on the pyramid the Slave/Masters worship. This world is a stage, as Shakespeare said, and these people are actors, par excellence.

When we met he was a wreck and, back then, I had very little insight into the true depth of the sketch but was pretty adept and making people see via a different lens so I asked:

“Strip the story of content and lets examine the context. When else did you feel like this?”. Cue a few minutes of blubbering and laments as the energies under the surface, churning, did comprehend that the man who stands in front of them is presenting a path for them to come to his head from his chest. He recollected his fathers untimely death and how that left him in a similar state of abandonment. Of course, the rage was suppressed and he’d always felt that his absence meant there was no one to teach him how to be a man, chat up women and all those things which usually pass from the masculine to the next generation. Can you see how this works yet? Anyway, after ages (and loads of mood swings as he attempted to integrate the energies) it started to click how he’d been handed a bittersweet pill that he’d ingested and now had to digest in order to excrete this previously stuck energetics which were generating a maelstrom of emotions. I asked him how it felt letting rip in the clubs and he responded:

“Amazing” as his face lit. “I was there looking for her and had absolutely no problem going up to women and asking if they knew this stripper chick as the previous fear of getting rejected and looking like a bell end no longer existed as my overarching mission was of great significance. Not only this but I, whilst lubricated, would say the most ridiculous and off the wall things that generated their interest as I was blatantly direct. This, as you’d expect, generated tensions with the men they were either with or had been intended to tap them and thus I’d respond with aggression which felt absolutely fantastic. This, often, turned them on and I’d feel an enraged sexing mixed with longing and regret that either had her bucking like a demon or me soaking the sheets with tears instead. To say it was intense was an understatement”.

One day he rose with knuckles red and recorded the oddest dream in which his father said he was proud of him for becoming a man and how we must play the hand we’re dealt as life is a Game of chance. He felt something shift within and that validation of his masculinity fitted in to the void she left and thus he felt more whole and complete than he ever had known.

Now, this isn’t actually a very extreme example but his folks all thought he’d flipped his lid as the previously mild mannered mamas boy was off the chain and coming in at all times of the AM whilst causing much static. So he moved. This was something he never would have ever imagined previously as he felt, but didn’t admit, she had became his burden, inherited, upon his fathers untimely exit. This resentment bubbled under the surface and further gnawed at the sense that other people were living whilst he was watching on the sidelines and now he had his own crib bills were in effect and this motivated a need to make ends so he went into business and did pretty well at it. Cue a patching up of things but now in a different resonance in which his mother was glad her son was back under her wing but never again would he reside under her thumb as he’d proved he was too big for this. On went his adventure.

All in daze work for a team of fallen angels, eh? But then, who but them who sink can point one to uplift even if they’re content to reign in Hell instead? Food for thought, yes? This is but one of many examples in which I’ve seen the same blueprint etched since and they say its not in the best interests of a magician to perform the same tricks in front of an identical audience but, luckily for me, I not only felt their effects my Self but had been helping others since back when so as it kicked I found resources and insight I wasn’t aware I possessed that was an immense help in upping my res as we are inside a fractal which means you not only interact with figments of your imagination but that there is immense resonance as there are no chance meetings due to life following a tight script. If one diverges from it then they’ll swoop in with events, circumstances and situations that work using a similar blueprint to give you just a little of what it is you think you want whilst causing an immense shift in your energetics to bring disequilibrium which is up to you to balance.

As you can probably guess there are a lot who fell at this hurdle and either ended up in mental institutions, medicated or miserable. This is why I’ve said one needs to be authentic and impeccable as well as having a clear grounding on the rules of the Game and how its played as it can all go left. You can, with a Warriors mindset, shake the shackles of past events, reverse all rites and come out the other end far better than you went in as there are plenty of myths and legends that attest to this as, once upon a when, this was well known as the way of initiation. But the Game shifted so thanks to those who upheld this tradition, even if they tend to manifest in ways quite strange as they have their own aims and, in general, do not wish you to ascend but that is a deeper topic as there are no accidents in this realm, only opportunities my friend.

Till we meet again

A Map for Your Hero’s Journey

Too many times, in this life of crime, we’re thrust into the spotlight without a clue of what kicks, who is the mix or even where this all happening. The last one is an immense hint, if you can crack it. What if I told you that you, reading, are actually the main character of a quest that I’d be willing to bet hasn’t even started yet? Take your favorite entertrainment series, show, book or what you wish of all time. The one you rank as the greatest and examine the protagonist and his situation. What if I said that is the life you’re supposed to be living?

Snort, came the reply. “I’m a hardcore Dungeons & Dragons fetishist ergo your hypothesis is rejected” said a man who spends more than a bit of time on Reddit. Lets examine his life from a critical lens. He is quite fat, slovenly in appearance, generally isolated except for those in the clique who enjoy rolling dice and busting orcs in the head and thus exceedingly passionate about this aspect of life that allows him freedom. The rest of his time is spent online either discussing said gift or emotionally vomiting on people in the comments if they said something he doesn’t agree with. How common is this? Do you suspect? Actually, does anything so far reflect in the deck from which you select your actions? Lets role that polyhedral dice for a sec and see what comes next:

D&D is a collaborative storytelling thing in which the playas are the most important and the rest is mere window dressing. You choose your own adventure, roll with the punches, play the hand that is dealt and see if you can help the rest out along your quest in which you face all types of foes and demons, fierce and treacherous. There is no end, in that respect, as one simply keeps on leveling and gaining more and more friends, relations and imperience.

In many ways it truly was an organic net before the web began to spin and snared folks in to its image building Game of “Lets pretend…” but because it was generally populated by nerds and social rejects it gained a rep as not being a cool thing. Thats by the by, though, because if you look at what was said and apply to the man in questions existence it would play out like this:

What is the story he tells himself, in his head? He started out very underpowered and even impoverished as the odds were stacked against him. Struggling to fit in and desperate to be anyone but himself he found a vent that presents an escape into a land of fantasy that was populated with phantasms and demons of his inner realms. There goes the dragon that ate his confidence, back when. Seeing it now fills him with dread as he flees and tells himself “Not my problem, me and him are cool these days” as he escapes to the shade. The same can be said for the rest of the characters that populate his inner realms. In order to avoid this mass angst he tends to overeat as the excess indulgence prevents the rising thoughts from getting beyond his neck and thus as his waist expands he finds there is less and less demand from the girls at school he sees on the reg. The external expansion is marked with an internal contraction and its into this void the Game did step as a projected alternative from taking on his true Hero’s Quest that scares him witless. From that point on it becomes his all of everything and is not only the cornerstone but foundation and roof of his identity. Heck, its the walls, door, windows and furnishings as well ergo he cannot imagine life without it as that is akin to being left, naked, in the elements. He will defends its honor and worth to the hilt without ever stopping to comprehend what is truly happening as all of the above adventures in tabletopping could, and should, be happening within the realms of his consciousness as that was his true challenge but we are given no users manual, clue or hint about how to process these energetic shifts we call emotions and the labels we attach therein.

Tell me, my friend, am I reaching or could you apply the above intuition to your own favorite passtime or entertainment thing? That is the reason why you find it so attractive and if we up the res again there will be an equal and opposite hidden within that causes a further layer of spin that, often, precludes introspection for many as the funny feelings it brings to consciousness equal confusion thus its easier to stay where you sit than pick up the weapon tossed in front of them. A lot do, actually, but end up using it on themselves in terms of coping mechs. Woe betide anyone who attempts to rip away babies bottle as they’ll scream and yelp then say “He’s worse than Hitler, himself!”. It takes a greater mind to see beyond the reality tunnel it digs but one must be wiling to lose what is conditioned to come to their senses, comprehend?

What if you could gain a map for your Hero’s Journey? One that says “This is where you started, here is what comes next” and outlines, in general, what to expect and the direction to find the first challenge? After that, you’re off and its time to bet on Self as the amazing thing about the Game is it all takes place in your head ergo people playing the roles miraculously manifest, on cue, do what they’re supposed to and leave. Most of them totally ignorant of the significance of said things as ye will be to them who are engaged in the same thing. I tell ya, the Game of Souls, in terms of coding and application is a work of pure, unbridled genius when it comes to the miserification of processing needed to string the dumb terminals of flesh along for the ride of their lives, in ignorance. Smarter still was how they took the larger Pattern and broke it down again and again for overlays on top of overlays to build the land of confusion in which we live. The ancients, sans TV sets, were well aware of this paradigm hence their “innernet” was the stream of myths and legends which are akin to the sites to which we connect. Your level of awareness, presence and education decide what was decoded as outlined in why I believe Jesus was a metaphor for pure consciousness that, this very moment, is being crucified inside your head via the two hemispheres – one repents, the other wicked – as outlined in the link. Now, I could be reaching but the above I have just said is why I suspect I’m not in a mental asylum or dead as my own life has been no joke. And yet I laugh. It is absolutely outsane but perfectly amazing when seen from a higher lens as through my steps in the Valley of the Plebs I’ve came to comprehend that a) I’m immortal b) I’m not the story in my head c) reality is plastic and d) most people are entirely ignorant of what kicks but play their role to the hilt without a clue that the script thats pimped in their head wasn’t written by them but could be. If they wished. That is where the map comes in, my friend. “Its dangerous to go alone, take this!” is what the village Shaman said, back when, before his role was x’d from the rec and it was legally mandated to spend a decade and change learning how to sit still, look ahead and do well on the test. For what? That simply preps you to be like the rest and thus gain no gnosis beyond what they present as the psychosocial treadmill which, for many, is all consuming from one life to the next…

The map can even speak on this as it can tell you where you’ve been, how life was on your previous spin and what kept you pinned to the wheel of time as there is a programming language to this realm where nothing is by accident, only opportunities exist as you can flip the Game on its head, if you wish, by doing the Knowledge. Thats the map times ten because whilst most are designed for their own personal quest there are others whose resonance is beyond the personal and aims collective. This ties in nicely with who keeps sending the prophets they kill and why each incarnation was predicted as wise men looked at the motions, overhead and followed where they were pointing. Exactly the same thing the Shamans did when they traversed the land of spirit and its for this reason they called this plane the underworld where the dead believe they’re living but thats another level to the deception as it seems insane to say, yes? Why did the ancient Kemetians, who built such immense monuments jam packed with encoded datasets, build their entire culture around dying and never coming back again? On the flip, why are we trying to extend the amount of time we can remain plugged in by using silicon chips to bend the telomere limit that will slow aging as a neural synaptic regulator kicks in and unleashes what, to us, will feel like a low level hallucinogenic trip in which people are mind melded, beautiful and unable to Thunk beyond the preset limits they won’t believe exist as the low level hijack of consciousness is taken to another level via the introduction of Techno Sapiens. Its dangerous to go alone, take this:

The Game of Souls has you, my friend.

Once you comprehend the depth of this simple statement and how it permeates every single aspect of this realm, your awareness and interaction therein then everything becomes a discussion or, better yet, a negotiation. “Between what?” I hear. Why, wisdom and ignorance hence why, like Jon Snow, I know I know nothing. Dig:

I’ve said before life is a Game of three halves, yes? There is what you know you know ie what was poured in or absorbed via osmosis during your time on the planet in this incarnation. There is that of which you’re aware you’re ignorant and, for most Slaves, this is where the trail ends as the rest of the map they get says thats how it is. For the Warrior, however, he looks down and notices treads that he only makes by walking and thus follows his intuition and stumbles into the darkness to find enlightenment. Its in here discovers what he didn’t know he didn’t know aka doing the Knowledge and things get super interesting as why would such powerful information be occulted from the rest? I guess the question is the answer, yes? People are easier to control when ignorant and stressed. I mean, just imagine that you Knew, one hundred, that death was not the end but you’re an immortal beam of consciousness that is identical with the all of everything around whom flesh is wrapped from one life to the next. You would, without a doubt, turn the noiZ down a bit and start staring at the bigger pic of why you can’t remember past lives, who is wiping your mind and with what intent as well as countless other interesting questions I’ve been pondering since a jit. They say the poison and cure grow side by side and its up to the wise to spot this and handle their biz. I guess this perspect is a side effect of all the SRA they dealt as, paradoxically, the flip is the freedom to question, without limits, and draw links others miss which begets a desire for liberation, quite intense and thats where the map comes in because, can you imagine, that as it said was what went in to create the story in my head. Thats like finding what kicks and in Coca Cola that makes it taste like nothing else and why nobody can replicate it. Do you know what the answer is? Cocaine.

Literally. I’m not joking as they are, legally, allowed to fly in soccer fields of the leaf for processing. They, of course, eject the “real thing” and dump the three billion pounds worth of surgical grade sniff some place else for application and never, ever public consumption or distribution via a private cartel hell bent on profits which, I suspect, is the same clique murdering the prophets they send as there is but one corruption as only one Prime who pre-exists. I’ll let you up your res and guess who is the pretender, pretending whilst the Psylense sits, awaiting your comprehension of the trick that pimps your free will by making you Thunk it exists without having to do a thing when, in reality, its like a muscle thats built via constant repetition and flex aka doing the Knowledge. Your starter for ten, in case (like a Jersey mob boss) you think I’m shifting garbage:

Thats to scale, by the weigh. Not a typo. Look at the ingredients and note they mention an ambiguous “natural extract” on the list. Thats the leaf, sans sniff, as processed by the Stepan Company, NJ who take the reup and flip to Mallinckrodt who chop, chop the rock and sell to the doc, dentists and anyone else who needs a hit of the sniff. For legit purposes, of course. But that doesn’t stop one who does the Knowledge questioning why the company located at One Hundred West Hunter Ave, NJ was only recently added to Street View and even then a large portion is still off the record when everything else around it was sketched, well, way back when:

Make that make sense and whilst you’re there ponder on how much they extract from the hundred metric tonnes they bring in, their secret farm plantation in Hawaii and the three billion Dollars they generate from the flip and DEA approval then mix in with a bit of tinfoil (and I think I tasted egg and cinnamon) then see what you get. For desert you can ponder why Opium production in Afghanistan sky rocketed after “liberation” when the red, white and blue crew stepped in as well as who fed the same to the Chinese, back when, then laundered the profits through HSBC who were built to do just this. More to heaven and earth, my friend. How do I know this? Because my map said and I made the Path by walking via intuition long before I ever bumped into the programming code of this realm and then a whole load about a little bit made way more sense…

Till we meet again

Anothers Truth Is Not Your Truth

Richard Pryor, in the article linked, said that its awful easy to live anothers life. Doing what they said, where, how and when. An autopilot existence, in other words. Well, I’m here to tell you that around ninety two percent of the planet are doing just this. 81 are ignorant of the process, 11 willingly partake in the deception. The remaining 8% range from derelict addicts to schizophrenic in patients and, now and then, an enlightened dude sitting on hill, at a distance, who gets how and why life is a mess and then decides to leave the rest to it as its way too difficult to convenience a ship of fools they’re heading toward destruction and thats exactly intended. Every now and then someone escapes the maze in the sea, swims to shore and sees the huge factory dumping toxic sludge into the waters and starts putting the pieces together. He is neither clucking for a fix, battling hallucinations or a wise sage at a safe distance.

The Warrior comes in many shapes and forms. The reason I outlined this is because Pryor was just this and if you see how fiercely honest he was, his life, from whence he came, how he played the hand he was dealt but, most importantly, the things he said and his own unique perceptions you’ll see why its vital to be genuine and one can only do this once they transcend fakeness. This, in turn, only kicks once you comprehend the deception of a masked existence and, once again, you obtain this gnosis by realizing you aren’t the voice in your head but that which listens. This process I’ve termed the Path of Power is akin to swimming upstream in a downhill world. There are dangers to deprogramming. In my own adventure I had my friends plot my death, strangers try to kill me with kindness and the immense revelation that I was born into a Satanic Ritual Abuse program and my entire family were in on it. Yeah, that can all be pretty intense but, on the flip, if becoming a diamond was simple we wouldn’t be surrounded by coals of ignorance who are content to put the least amount of effort in and be just like the rest who, secretly, detest the life they live but are filled to the gills with distractions and coping mechs.

You will note that I said the Warrior, generally, comes from less, has dealt with immense stress and often gets a sense that there is something very, very wrong with this realm, yes? All of this stems from the parental relationship and, I’d be willing to bet, that if one or both of your links was crooked or missing something (as well as flat out damaging) then you’re capable of awakening the Warrior within. Let me put it to you like this – Anyone can tell reality is the definition of insanity, yes? What is the deeper meaning of being well adjusted to such immense social sickness then? What does that state about them and their ignorance? I’d be willing to bet that the happy and content denizens of the Valley of the Plebs are, on many levels, totally fake and mostly unaware of it. They will clutch to the script their parents handed them as they were fed treats and scratched under the chin with a “Who’s a good boy then?” as they aced the test by puking up what the teacher said on request. The Warrior, contrary, may have (like DMX) aced the test but found a neglectful mother who gave not an F and found an immense distrust of people, in general, stem from this which manifested as reckless violence that wrapped, like tendrils, around his creative tenderness. The only Soul who could comprehend his pain? His dog. Strange how that word is god when flipped, isn’t it? Dual Reality Principle, my friend. What it means is this:

You can have a canine friend, mistreat it, beat it, starve it and then ignore its requests for playtime and affection but if it were to sense someone was a threat to your well being it wouldn’t hesitate in dying to protect you. That is the true link between you and the Prime, the existing one. She has no religious texts, no creed or temple because her presence is more nebulous and obvious but has been carefully hidden via the architects of deception who are the main reason you believe the divine is an angry white man, in a cloud, yelling as he promises furious vengeance and general indignation for those of this realm. Listen, I’m not dissing your religion or anything but its as I said as you folks, to me, are chasing a cake nobody has even seen, let alone tasted, whereas me and the Rebel Mystic whipped up a simple and tasty biscuit called gnosis hence anothers truth is not your truth. This is why I said don’t follow me because I am my own guru and only disciple. You are responsible for your own development as its your Soul, in the end – we’re all manifesting within it as aspects you project. Gaining this gnosis in the flesh was extremely liberating as so much about so much made a lot of sense and you’ll note that the feminine aspect is always linked to the mind which is the moon in the same resonance of how the Soul syncs the sun as all of that, out there, has a correlate within. Don’t believe? Good, you shouldn’t as this is my truth, not yours. Create the Path by walking, find what kicks then we’ll compare notes and see what syncs and swims, dig?

This doesn’t mean you can’t use what exists as a framework to find your Self. That is often the best way as not all were born in the jaws of the dragon and thus are playing the Game at its highest, most difficult level. Nay, most are offered a more staid deal. In that case its like pretending life is a funfair and its filled with rides and attractions. I’ve said before that I suspect free will doesn’t exist but I’m now revising that opinion and I think it just doesn’t for me, to a large degree. Dig:

In this amusement park there are wurlitzers, pirate ships, crazy halls of mirrors, bumper cars and pretty much all you can imagine. Some get on the ride and enjoy what their parents did as its a family tradition. This is unactualized free will aka the path of least resistance or “Well, it worked for them and who am I to question tradition? Besides, there are other things calling for my attention than these metaphysical abstractions so begone!”. Others hate what their folks want for them as they sense its not genuine and authentic ergo they rebel and, to their chagrin, find their own way aka “He used to be such a good boy but then went to Uni and started flipping packs. I don’t know what happened to him?”. That too, as the article suggests, can be just as fake as the first as its a counterswing that misses the mid. Next we have one sits on an attraction but is slightly distant and thinks “Its all a ride” and then starts pondering the true depth of this sketch and what it means to wear flesh in this realm. This is becoming Centered in Self and if you came at it this way then my compliments to the chef.

Up, up above this is a rollercoaster that flits around the entire place. From the highest highs to lowest lows, its got them covered. Each seat is for two but, usually, only one is present. It takes in the whole park and thus one who is riding it could, if they wished, see every single aspect of all bits and then draw their own conclusions. This doesn’t happen, often, as they’re usually screaming and holding on for dear life as its designed to scare the crap out of them. The thing is this part is off limits for the rest, mainly, and thus they don’t even suspect it exists. The so called schizophrenic is one who finds his merry go round of predictable bliss has shifted to this hurtling creation of adrenaline dumping and he struggles to make sense of what kicks until a cheery “Quick, to the mental asylum!” kicks in and they say he’s a cuckoo as you can get because rollercoasters don’t exist. They’ll point at the parks blueprint and tour guide experts who all attest its in his head and isn’t real. The mystic and poet, on the flip, know about this thing of myth and legend and make their way around the park of amusement but without investing in the distractions as they’re seeking the hidden exit in to which the madman, entranced, fell. Some do, others don’t and BS. You can always tell the real from the fakeness as the former is usually hated whilst the latter celebrated. Do the Knowledge, my friend. When they get to the destination the mystic climbs in and handles it as he’s spent many lifetimes training for this spin. The poet, in tenderness, looks from a distance and writes rhymes, rapturous, about the beauty of its magnificence and how it affords such a thrill. Note, he himself has not rode it but this shows you the basis of all religions and how they actually exist in the first place as all of the prophets knew about the rollercoaster as well as the nature of the park and its construction etc… This is a very subtle part that many miss.

Me? I was born riding it. That means flat out adrenaline from inception and no off switch. At various junctions I’ve noticed that my belt had either been loosened with a cut or the track itself was rusted and busted but, somehow, my carriage floated over it. Once I even fell out as it was looping but, in a wonderful sync, as I dropped gravity was rendered ineffective and thus the moment the coaster came back around I slotted back into the seat I’d just vacated with a wry grin wondering what the heck just happened. That was my latest near death experience. I say latest as there have been so many I stopped counting, back when. The first two kicked before I’d even started crawling. Someone down here really doesn’t like me but someone else, more powerful, has me earmarked as their favorite it seems. Not meaning to sound arrogant, just sharing my truth as my life isn’t a movie. Its several. This you’ll click when you reeleyez what I’m kicking is one hundred percent fresh and direct with no two stepping or stretch ergo it can get you wide open or blooming, if you will. In a world full of people whose rose was pinned by an errant thorn to create the (false) self of egoic projection as they ride the attractions this may seem like a fate worse than death but thats quite ignorant as we died to wisdom to wear the flesh of ignorance called being human aka the oldest tricks are the best. I’m here at present to share a message then jet as its my last spin in this Game we all play using our Souls as credits so pay attention or don’t, thats on you, but be certain that you’ll be riding that coaster one day as well and then, like Richard said, it will make a load more sense why its so simple to live a life at anothers behest with no questioning of the script until you live, die, come back again and keep on doing this for a few more spins until you’re sitting in your mansion smoking crack at the peak of your success and wondering what the F is happening because you easily make others grin and yet feel so sad within that you end up acting like this in a way that belies an immense amount of self hatred.

This is where one learns to sift the pure milk of Inner Sense from the corrupted waters of Adulteration that were sifted in, for profit, by the same people who kill the prophets the Prime sends with same message, again and again:

That life is an illusion, death is the truth and its not where things end but begin. But, the funfair is seductive. Like pimps and politics, it promises what it never delivers but will wear out whats between your legs for its own ends, if you let it as the preacher passes around a plate for collection to those who accept anothers truth of a magical cake they can one day taste if they do exactly as is said from one who is usually not a paragon of virtues as he’s simply got hope for sale to those plugged in…

The Game is something else, my friend and it will meet you on your level and beat you to your knees, if you let it. The Warrior, on the flip, is a major threat as one gaining gnosis reminds the others what they’ve been made to forget hence the 8% often come from less with the explicit intent to prevent this awakening as they’re sucked into the vortex of destruction instead of transcending to ascend because none of this exists without a Soul to Witness the attraction. Thats how powerful your mind is, my friend.

Till we meet again

The Time Machine

Lets pretend there are no accidents in this realm, only opportunities, my friend. Taking it to another level, lets throw the spell “Coincidence” in the bin and imagine there is a process that creates everyones existence. A Time Machine, if you will. This algorithm works in the background, invisible, and was responsible for your parents meeting, who they were, their preferences and whims plus genetic mix. Basically, I’m saying that – down to the atom and the fact you’re currently reading this – that there is no chance and every single aspect is scripted by a specific process with its own intent for each incarnation. Many will scoff at this. Others will call it god in a new dress. Both of them are ignorant and, respectively, rep the 81 and 11%. If you are one of them then I suggest you jet and find someone else who says what you expect and not content that challenges your preconceptions about life on the most fundamental level as my missives are silent invitations to the 8% capable of awakening the Warrior within to comprehend and then approach from their own angle as there is no “One size fits all” in this realm. As you’ll Witness as we delve into the depths of the Time Machine…

“OK, we need to keep this interesting but subtle and efficient” said the men who would be kings as they surveyed the land that could be but isn’t yet. This was, as you’d suspect, done in secret as to win the ultimate win they needed to use the subtle arts of subterfuge and deception. This they did and played to the hilt but we’re talking about the genesis style events in which their collective spirit was hovering over the planes of this realm with envy in its breast for the people they viewed as beneath them had something they coveted but, themselves, could not access:

A Prime connection. I call it Inner Sense. Every child steps into the realm with it. It speaks via the language of symbols, intuition, meaningful syncs and those strange feelings that something is amiss in ways your conscious mind cannot comprehend. “Tish, pshaw and nonsense!” said the voice in your head. Welcome to the proof positive of the Time Machine because, as you may not recollect (yet), there was an era when it didn’t speak and your life was much more intense, yes? Care to recollect? Take that as a challenge. Better yet, why not describe the exact difference between childhood and the life you live in a way that actually does the downgraded shift justice via its comparison using language. I’ll wait…

Willing to bet you failed in this because I’m pretty decent when it comes to linking phonics and states and I found it nigh on impossible which made me contemplate what the heck kicked. Until I came up with this:

Once upon a when, there was a small boy and a world that felt immense. Each day bought a new discovery and challenge as it was so rich and vivid. It felt like full spectrum living in optimal coherence and resonance with what can only be termed the all of everything. He Knew, on some level, that he was the embodiment of perfection and the most powerful thing in this realm was the imagination. It, often, surprised him as well as he’d pluck things from it then wonder “How the heck?” as he looked at the sketch, concept or thing said by invisible friend reverberated around his consciousness with the “This is important” message that seemed to make the edges tingle with a special kind of illumination that was just calling out for his attention. This could be as simple as watching ants run from a hill after one of their scouts found something of interest and went sprinting back to tell the rest who, inside his head, were talking like this:

“Right lads, I found a leaf. Its about yay big and I think it would be perfect to decorate the crib as this type is apparently the rage this season so I suggest we go scoop it up before someone else grabs it as its a one of one, fully natural kind of thing and I quite like it”.

The rest of the crew nodded their heads in assent as they liked the sound of this and a breakaway formed as they trudged off, singing, to go and get the prize in question. Now, obviously, the above was a curious little boys interpretation of said events but what kicked next really made him ponder about the type of logic at the helm in these little insects as the exact amount of ants needed to carry said thing are exactly what manifested. Meaning, there wasn’t one sitting around twiddling his thumbs or a few less so the rest struggled with effort. The call and response was literally perfect. The boy was astounded as he watched the scene unfolding. Time, space, his life and the rest had all ceased to exist as he was present with such a single minded focus that he heard not his parents calling. This, later, would be marked down to sheer insolence and willful ignorance of their talking to him. It wasn’t the case at all because, inside his chest, many interesting things were happening as his mind swung from one branch of reasoning to the next as what would become the crazy chimp that bangs its dome against the cage of the zoo, Adulterated, where it sits was, for now, in its natural element and scouring its databanks of what is, isn’t, could be and, one day, might be as well as a whole host of other options that have, usually, atrophied since it was turned into a tourist attraction for forces it doesn’t comprehend.

“Did one look, size up the challenge and think “We need twenty three strong men” or did they all, somehow, just Know this is what they’d pick? What if I’m wrong and there are extras sometimes who aren’t needed and they play the rear instead or set off in search of other things?”. With this in mind he starts to imperiment and he picks up things which may interest them and places them around whilst calculating odds in his head to pencil in imaginary statistics to form a dataset. He, consciously, is totally unaware of this as he’s still too young to have had “Show your working” drummed into his head but his belly is providing the impetuous, his heart chimes in with intuition and the scratchpad in his head notes observations of what kicks as the info is fed back, refined and reconsidered again based on his conditions. He notes that they always, always, always seem to just “know” how many it will take to lift said thing and he cannot help but sense an underlying aspect that must be working through them to cause said things to happen. For rays upon rays he keeps this in the back of his head and, often, stops to notice other anthills as well as looking at birds in the sky and noting their correlation. Everything is data and he, without knowing it, is crunching immense amounts of it at very high resolutions to create a unique info set that, often, surprises those around him with his observations.

I highlight this simple example to prove my point as, once upon a when, you had no answers but loads of questions that weren’t generic and not on the test. You didn’t do this for acclaim or a pat on the head. You did it because it was totally natural to try and figure out what kicked and pore over the most simple things that many miss. Life, in that respect, was three dimensional. There was a layer of depth that would, stealthily, be removed as you were trained to accept not only a Two D rep instead but labels instead of sensations.

Does that describe the shift from Inner Sense to Adulteration with about as much refinement as a welders mitt? I hope so as its the best I can do at the moment but I feel the lack of plane whilst still viewing the same thing is an accurate enough ref – along with a basic example – that your mind can fill in the details as you draw your own pic, and thus, conclusions as well. As I’ve said, you should accept none of what I’ve said but take it all as a challenge. Know the Ledge, my friend…

This is the raw material of what was fed into the Time Machine, back when. Its process is so slick, so all encompassing and therefore totally invisible that no one questions it. No one, that is, apart from the madman, mystic and poet. The first comes off the worst from this skirmish as he hasn’t a clue what he’s up against nor that its shaping not only his consciousness but that of everyone in this realm over the age six which is, funnily enough, the same time that inner glow dims as the lessens of “Sit still, look ahead” take effect. That wasn’t a typo, by the way, but you already Knew this as you’re starting to see the spells they sling as the code of the Matrix, yes?

As the boy ran around the garden he noticed each flower, leaf and stem. They were not, yet, generic and placed in box that said “Seen one, you’ve seen em all”. No, each had its own depth that made it special and worthy of interest. He observed how some roses appeared to be full of vim and you could see the pride issuing from them as their chests swelled in how magnificent they felt. Others were a bit more disheveled and seemed like they’d lived a bit of a hell to get to the present and were just feeling a bit tried about what kicks. He wondered what would happen if he paid extra attention to it and made up his mind to take some of the plant feed he’d seen in the garage and mix it in with the water, sprinkled. But only near this bit. He’d also talk to the plant and see how it felt. This continued to capture his interest for nearly a month and, during that time, he spotted this wilting flower had began perking due to the presence of nourishment and his attention as well. “Interesting” he thinks and looks around for another pick that looked similarly listless. This time, however, he would only speak to one but keep both of them well fed and note the difference.

To the Adulterated, looking on, the scene presents none of this and if he tries to share his imperimented datasets they’ll either ignore or pay surface level attention as they are no longer capable of rendering that res ergo whatever comes in is reduced to flat plane in which bills are in effect along with death and taxes. They have, in effect, been hijacked by the Time Machine and are currently playing an immense Game of Simon Says… with the voice in their head they Thunk is them. No such thing for the boy who would grow to be Prince as his Spiritual Immune System is live and kicking and thus ejects this process before it can finagle its way in… Not that it would relent. “Oh, ve hav vaze of making joo talk!” said the element that wished to become the voice in its head as the Time Machine plotted its tools of ingress. Being who he is he spotted this, as it kicked and wondered what this new invention presented as he asked everyone about the manifestation of said thing. To them its presence was as invisible as water to a fish but, to he, it was a strange interjection that caused immense pondering:

“Am I the voice that speaks or he that heeds? How come it tells me what to do before I did but, once upon a when, I was powered by something else that was markedly different?”.

He raises this topic with both the grown and innocent. They look equally perplexed at his meanderings into his nascent consciousness and comment there are strange thoughts in his head and how its better to pay no attention. His mind flips back to the anthill. “Of course!” he says, with a grin. “Thats how they did it. Check it” he says, unfolding the metaphysics to a friend who’ll listen as he shows them this small realm:

“Its like, imagine I’m the one sending voices, yeah? I tell them thats a twelve man job, no more or less, as I see the whole thing whilst they’re ground level consciousness. Each of them hear the exact same statement in this head but, get this, they take it personal when it isn’t“.

“Yeah, yeah, cool” says his friend, only half listening. “Lets go climb the trees!”. So they did. The boy never stopped pondering at the same depth of res since back when and, for him, the Time Machine and its grip is Self evident on this realm. This was amped to the power of ten times infinitum when he discovered an odd glitch of how schizos never, ever hallucinated around him and thus he was, to them, like a magnet as he always presented identical no matter what springs from his head. They, gratefully, listened to his developing musings and meanderings on what kicked because, to him, their hallucinations ticked the boxes, really well, of open eyed dreams and what chased them with nasty threats had an immense correlation to the monsters under the bed. And then he said:

“Wait a minute. Thats the first time I heard it speaking, remember, that voice in my head that I didn’t step in with but certainly manifested? Its one time when I rose in bed, screaming, and was scared half to death. It said “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe” and, at the time, I’d accept any reassurance I could get but I always sensed it was counterfeit as demonstrated, real well, when I got that tape deck as a gift and recorded my voice only for it to say “I don’t sound like this” and that really got me wondering because when I look in the mirror my hair parts on the right but a photo offers a different sight so are there like two me’s or only one thats twisted by an alternate reality that was woven only inside my head and could what kicks in yours simply be a more intense version of this?”.

In the neighborhood schizophrenics he had found an enrapt audience as not only was what he said relevant to them it, often, caused them to relate to their hallucinations via another lens for he said:

“I strongly suspect you’re just a figment of my imagination and this I can prove, quite well, because the last time we sat here for ages and I asked you to just keep on repeating, out loud, whats happening within and I almost felt like I was hallucinating as well. Its like we were both tapped in to the same resonance and that manifests, primarily, inside your head but what we have in common is actually far greater and immense and doesn’t begin, nor end, with the flesh but thats another topic”.

Yes, the Time Machine is slick and in the decades, intervening, since these examples I’ve found it quite curious how if you take ten people, at random, and place them in said thought imperiment around 8 will reject, in an instant, what you said. More than one will decry your view as totally incorrect and make quite a big song and dance of it that sees to offer hints about they’d prefer it kept hid and people not think like this. Less than one will be capable of pondering what you said, without accepting it. Simply as another viewpoint or, if you will, a reality tunnel. They may choose to wander down it for a bit, sort of like the boy and ants, back when, then snap back to their regularly scheduled program which shows it can be quite nebulous as its only held together via the habit of ignorance and, interestingly, these people are, quite often, either damaged (or flat out broken), a bit different or totally aware of their coping mechs and how they do them to keep an immense monster, from back when, at bay but willingly listen to the boy who would become Prince and what he said as it sounded interesting and was totally different to what anyone else ever shared as they felt something shift within when conversing as the previously flat image started, again, to gain depth as they felt a familiar newness wash over their awareness as the grip of the Time Machine receded into the distance and, with it, the voice in their head that made them a meat marionette that used to dance on the strings of ignorance and parrot whatever it said as its own perspective.

“You certainly have got a funny old way of looking at things” he said as means of encouragement. “Keep at it, kid, and recollect that the dead shall bury the dead but takes one who is living to comprehend the sketch”. “What the heck does that mean?” came the response from the preteen who was almost entirely ignorant of scripture and such things. “Why don’t you think about it instead and see what you get as there is plenty rhyme to the reason why he said what he did. Plus, you ain’t the only the one who can talk in riddles designed to shift your consciousness” he added, with a wink, before going on to yell at something invisible that “No, I will not hurt him. He’s my only friend in this realm and is heaven sent as an air of breath, fresh, and thus shall be protected by the Holy Spirit“. This, as you can guess, launched us into another discussion and I asked “Are the dead those who accept what the voice says without responding as you did?”. He cracked a grin and said:

“You know what? They may just be but, until recently, I never looked at it like this. Its what you shared about challenging the suggestions instead of accepting them in ignorance that got my questioning and they didn’t like this – nor you – one bit after that thought imperiment”.

“Cool, anyway, look at this” he said, pointing to an anthill as they sat on a park bench. “See how that one scout went off and spotted that leaf, at a distance? I’d be willing to bet that when they come back to pick it there will be eighteen of them. No more, no less” he reasoned as, for him, the world was not only still Three D but growing multidimensional which is where, he suspected, the schizos did attempt to swim but using what the Time Machine had taught them but the gossamer resonance was beyond its grip and thus they drowned whereas the rest, well adjusted, had learned to tread water instead and, slowly, get wrinkled without a true clue of the decep and how they may actually be collectively hallucinating a version of themselves that didn’t truly exist outside what the voice in their head said as they rushed to spend the money another thought was fit to print and all the rest of the labels pointing at things versus looking at what presents and letting intuition sing as gnosis beatboxes and wisdom dances…

The Game of Souls has you, my friend.

Till we meet again