Did You Already Know What I’ve Just Discovered?

Following on from the words of Philip K Dick, as yet unwrit – Did you already know what I’ve just discovered? Did you? Did they? There can be no way in which I can comprehend they’ve seen the whole thing. I don’t mean this as a slight or anything but there is an immense difference between grabbing a rope, holding up the wall, sitting under a fan or leaning on the wall versus the glory of the whole elephant and not bit and pieces transcribed with riddles. Is it this lack of perspect that makes them thirst for my death? Is that it? What the F is happening, mayne?

The implications of this are so immense that its beyond ineffable. There is simply no way anyone well adjusted to this mess could ever, ever, ever hope to comprehend the shadows depth. Now I get why I was born in it and why it took so long to ascend to the surface ergo where life begins for the rest, for me, has just started. Wow. Sometimes people are so far behind they think they’re ahead, eh? What if I’m aheart? Does that make a difference? Who in the heck would have picked this trek out of all of the options and variables in the fractal of consciousness? Its beyond a fools errand and makes Don Quixote look quite sensible.

Why doesn’t the Prime pull the plug? Who slugs the prophets and makes profits off of them? How can one with a corrupted consciousness hope to ever tell what truly kicks and, worse still, if their programming language itself was a half, inverted then flipped would they even click that spells and rites plus cursive equal a past, present and future that are tense that beget stiff upper lips that, with a clearly murky conscience, can unleash such heinousness on the natives anuses in the name of “civilizing” them. I guess thats why they call it “colonization”, eh? The spells are tells, my friends, just like words are thoughts held hostage. There are levels to this and we’re in the abyss, where Rick James dwells…

I don’t presume to be so arrogant to think that I floated across an ocean to find a place, populated, then claimed it as my own creation. Hell no, leave that to those sans melanin but plus ten questionable morals and wicked intents. I’m fueled my Inner Sense and if this is what a diamond sees with crystal clear vision I can perceive why the rest of the coals will be lining to stick Siri in their iris when the fat lady sings and tells them its time to shift to the new order of ages, remixed. This is what sounds like when a silicon human fakes an orgasm… Suddenly the drive to fakeness, the pump and twist, legislated feelings and frogs in the kitchen make perfect sense. Its like I said, everything is as intended and that, itself, is mind bending.

Say what you want about Rick but he had that mothership connection hence why he recorded without kicks as he clicked the funk is in the floor and that makes its presence felt when one is in resonance. Its like a hundred straight lines just hit in a hundred games of Tetris that a hundred versions of me were playing in the same instance but in general ignorance of the rest. Its so multiversal! And, in that instance, we all said:

“Wait a second!“.

And became timeless immortals fully cognizant of the links and the implications of this are protoctistal. Like a feathered serpent riding the Van Allan belts at death to escape reincarnation as we’re literally a molecule of something else. Something which is “no thing”‘ but everything, all at the same instance. Playthings of the gods held hostage by real devils who had you a shovel and blueprint, to spec, to dig a reality tunnel, par excellence, that demands one runs the treadmill whilst ticking the “Supposed To” boxes to get another pat on the head as teachers pet whilst parents grin at report cards that said:

“Little Timmy is simply the best are regurgitating what we said, on cue, for the test which means he’s lining up to be a square watermelon, real well”.

Tell me that isn’t how it is and I’ll call you a liar, par excellence, that manufacturers proof, for the fibs they sell themselves… The shadows depth is so immense that most don’t even suspect they’re in the Valley of the Plebs and that is what makes the trick so effective as they merely class it as “being human‘” without comprehending their true strength and potential that is buried under layers upon layers of conditioning, common resonance and all types of blips that are, routinely, edited from their consciousness.

Now more than ever it seems that the entire fate of the world hangs in a very fine balance hence why I exhort one should do the Knowledge because the upsides are immense for, in the end, the Game takes place inside your awareness. But ye, the Slave/Masters already knew this, yes? This is the part I’m trying to comprehend because if you truly are aware of the ins and outs of wearing flesh then the way you go about it makes very little sense to me but, then again, I’m not an adept. At least, not on this spin but that does make me wonder why the rivers of higher awareness beget a familiar newness as well as the modes and methods you lot implement on the reg. So the question is, I guess, what is my role in all of this? Better yet, what comes next?

One of the strange things about creating the Path by walking is you, literally, don’t have a clue of what comes next as its never presented on any official curriculum or syllabus ergo one must flex but not bend, listen but not be taken in and, above all else, to thine own Self be true. What more can I do than tell it how it is, in that respect? The thing is you, reading, have been coerced, conditioned and cascaded through so many filters of consciousness that they’re invisible and thus man wrestles with parts of an elephant, firmly convinced of the narrative and missing whats right in front of them. Isn’t the hint about the number, devilish, being six, six, six and how that links with the flesh you’re wearing Self evident? What of the correlate in terms of the time spent in bed versus the rest wandering the planet? Haven’t you ever wondered how and why it seems that time dilates when dreaming and what the implications of this are as why would nature, as miserly generous as she is, expound immense chunks of energetics creating nocturnal visions for your entertainment? Could there be more to the obvious that is so fine, so subtle that a calloused consciousness cannot grasp it?

Methinks that is an interesting avenue for exploration as the side effects may include the start of a spiritual awakening and, let me tell thee, things are never the same again after you comprehend that you simply cannot be the voice in your head when you are that which listens to it. See what I mean about the Dual Reality Principle and how it spins in two opposite yet complementary decisions and we, in the midst, are effects of the cause it begets that manifests as torus fields of coherence along with the movement of celestial events and their earthbound references? What is most mind blowing about all of this is how there is but one story, in the end, and that can be extrapolated, again, to suggest you are the only Soul on the planet and I’m a figment of your imagination. How else can ten men view one and draw such radically different conclusions?

Are these the type of things you converse on in private, my old friends turned teachers, par excellence? If so, why do so few of your adepts speak on this or is that part of the secret tradition? Whats with all the suffering? Granted, in my case, it turned a coal into a diamond. Why do I feel like some type of special project that is beta testing an upgraded OS not available to the rest yet? Is that what kicks? If so that would explain the observation and shifts of variables to map my reactions then, wouldn’t it? One could also argue that that means the one who flip and become schizophrenic simply didn’t manage to swim in the seas of higher consciousness and that, once again, links with the Industrial Revolution that originated in the land of stiff upper lips from where those who were on the receiving end of an exodus set up encampment and, currently, wave triple crosses in your dish as a not so coded statement of intent.

And yet, still I rise.

I look at those who lived and died within the grip of these machinations and I find a common thread. They are all immensely empathetic, often troubled, frequently came from less and, usually, meet an early death for trying to buck the trends. After that their image is repackaged and selt to the rest with a vital aspect missing:

What would’ve came next.

Who would Malcolm X had been if his reign wasn’t cut short by hands in pockets that pulled out semi automatics? Same with Pac and Big. Marley as well. The list is endless but they all have the fact that they’re were wildly creative and set a bar others couldn’t even imagine, let alone hit. Is it, as I suspect, a side effect of the training? Did they too climb the pyramid and then reject the final solution as they chose to take their Soul home instead of playing ball with rules and parameters, deceptive? If I am correct in what I suspect that this world is a broken reflection of a higher realm then what of the one above it and then again and again and again? If there are turtles in descent what ascends? These are the things I’m wondering as I sit in my four corner room, alone, staring at candles and pondering the true nature of consciousness and its flame, eternal. Me and ye both know from whence this springs and how it made its journey to the West so if all of this is as intended then that means that I, too, have my place in the macro and microcosm, yes?

The role played by parentage, friends, kith and kin in all of this really made my head spin. Ten Eighty degrees, to be accurate. Each step bought nothing but traumatic programs and when I went to war with them I was hit by a Two Eleven, both ends. It appears that some, up there, don’t like me and wish to prevent the full manifest and yet there must be another, more powerful, that has decided I’m her favorite. A plaything of the gods… It has a certain ring, doesn’t it?

The next half of precession and what it begets via technological progress seems to be a foregone conclusion, and yet, even that, to me, seems like a retread as the future memories keep seeping in. I’ve come to the conclusion that what we term schizophrenics are those who have a malfunctioning resonance with time and, on some level, reject the programming. This, I suspect, is bought about by their parents who send mixed messages during development, par excellence, but do they do it via free will or is that too scripted? Each step brings new answers but they only beget better questions as I up my res but the past year seems to have had many stops (and blocks) pulled out and melted. Like ice becoming water which recollects its actually steam, eternal, wearing flesh. If you all Know this then how come you stave off death as long as you can whilst dealing it to the rest who meekly inherit the earth that is laid upon them as they’re dropped into a coffin before having their consciousness recycled for another spin?

Five points in reverse. The ruler of optics and all beautiful who sprang from the loins, fully formed, of the one who killed the old king to usher in the new order of the ages as old angels became new devils. Its a Game as old as the empire itself. Did it ever end or simply ascend to pull strings from a place most cannot imagine and fewer still dare tread? The fact that I’ve dodged bullets so well has me pondering hence why I said I cannot hate the gifts you sent as they allow me to speak like this with a view so in depth that I truly wonder how many can comprehend it without taking the steps? What if they’re not supposed to? Henrietta became immortal but what did she truly gain from such experimentation? As we slide further and further into the forest of illusion how many look overhead and listen to what life is saying because nothing is hid to those whose ears are whispered in by the lips of wisdom.

Well, these are the latest words from your correspondent who is currently paddling upstream in a world, downhill. Does everyone have to take this test, at some point, if they wish to ascend? Is it the equivalent of learning how to ride with no stabilization and thus the bumps and bruises are learning lessons? Did you already know what I’ve just discovered? If so then why is the world like this? There is something I’m not getting and that is next in my quest to comprehend the shadows depth because, in the end, there is no “out there” without “in here” projecting it as the tele/microscope spins and does its bit to make beasts of men who, soon, will be hybridized by silicon after the herd has been thinned but thats another topic…

By the way, what does the moose have to do with all of this? The goat has been decoded and if what I think is correct then a lot about a little makes way more sense as the twin currents do their thing as does the rest of ascending descent and nature of the grand treadmill with thirteen steps in either direct. The other element I’m still pondering as the link to the shining serpent is evident as is the cow, sacred, so where do I fit into all of this? Am I leading or being lead?

Thirteen plus one times ten with four, sprinkled aka the 8% capable of Knowing the Ledge. Recollect, the chosen ones choose themselves… The ratios never fib when you’ve learned divine mathematics and one plus one equals eleven, yes? Thats a far greater rate of interest than anything the teacher said would be on the test as the one who flew over the cuckoos nest, met the fork in the road but didn’t turn right or left as he was Centered in Self and thus another option presents…

Till we meet again

Its Not Who They Are Outside

I’m quite sure you’ve heard how beauty is only skin deep, yes? Whoever penned that axiom obviously didn’t envision the Instagram generation who’d filter their pics to death in the quest for perfection as walls warped to make rear ends more buxom and breasts, voluptuous. Actually, this isn’t the topic but I was reading online about how there are apps that will take your basic image and then “perfect” it by doing all types of camera tricks. I tried one, at its incep, and thought it was an odd effect that made my skin look like porcelain whilst my eyes were dazzling. Granted this was a long time ago and the recent tech apparently looks a lot more fluid and human but, man, what a mind F. I don’t know if you’ve ever watched Red Dwarf but there was an episode in which Rimmer, commensurate failure, par excellence, met a parallel version of himself that was all he ever imagined and then some. He hated him, intensely. They, of course, made him look much more attractive with a becoming manner and swagger whilst also being self effacingly gregarious so those around him adored his presence whilst the standard version was generally detested and rejected. Even by the robotic help. “Ouch” must have went the fabricated inner realms of this caricature of a person. And yet, that is exactly whats happening at the present, isn’t it? People get to meet their ultimate version and then, if they can afford it, get the surgery to mimic it. Let me let you into a little secret:

The confidence is only skin deep as the upgraded you with bolt ons and implants doesn’t possess the same Inner Sense from back when that comes with its constant reinforcement that you are special because you’re attractive. Its quite an interesting thing as that in built confidence is what actually draws most people in, beyond the visage which is ironic as its the dish that got them the mindset so the machine of perpetual perfection doth spin. Science isn’t at the point yet where they can upgrade your internal OS, with a click, but I’d be willing to bet that if we took two potential versions of a looksmaxer and left one, unfiltered, but with a pimped out head that Knew (capital K) they were the best and ultimate versus the one who was still invested in the narrative of seeing imperfection being reflected but was now nipped, tucked, trimmed and re-presented the former would have way more success with the opposite sex, happiness and sense of contentment. I say all of that to say its not who they are outside but what is within for yours is the Kingdom, my friend. Its all about being comfortable in your skin, coherent and resonant which nearly nobody is at present as the web has done a number on their head. As intended. By the way, that has absolutely nothing to do with the main topic as that is of a whole nother intent so consider that a pre-tangent to the main quest:

I recently discovered that nearly my whole lineage are adepts of a black magick thing and, of this, I was entirely ignorant. It feels like I’ve manifested into a Philip K Dick script in which some kind of strange, dual reality based experiment is being conducted with a live specimen who doesn’t fully comprehend what is happening as a shadowy team behind a smoky curtain pull all types of strings. On some level I suspected this, back when, but always pushed the thought out of my head and back into my chest as I numbed my Self with the finest distractions a man can get. I mean, its hard enough living in this world but doing it dolo whilst strapped with this gnosis is pretty much asking for a one way ticket to the insane asylum, isn’t it? Oddly, every schizo I’ve met, ever, also had a strained relationship with one or both parents and its usually the maternal aspect that presented the greatest problem that led to their later fracturing awareness producing all types of hallucinations which I know see are totally accurate and well within reason of what truly kicks. Hence no due process, appeal to a rep or anything else beyond a depot injection in the rear end and or a padded cell if they won’t accept the script. I, thankfully, avoided this misstep thanks, in part, to the many conversations we had as, lucid or tripping, I was always me to them which, for someone set adrift in a world ever changing, was like meeting gods gift ergo they spoke, freely, without fear of judgement and listened to what I said as I encouraged them to feel around in this state of expanded awareness whilst discounting their vision as it was obviously that aspect that was being pimped. Did you know these so called mad men do not fall for optical illusions that have the rest of the world, entranced? Read that back again and link it with what I said, off rip, as you do the Knowledge.

Now, these events got a young jit pondering as I wanted to know what made me so special that the local lunatics flocked to me by the bakers dozen and couldn’t wait to share their insights which were perfectly cogent and, invariably, consistent across many contestants. That part I found really fascinating because they all said, to a man, that some invisible presence was tampering with their consciousness and pimping their mind which was something I was also quite familiar with. Later I would discover this is what SRA does best so does that mean the intent at the helm of this realm is nothing less than wicked? If so it makes sense why another force keeps sending prophets that are killed stone dead, yes? It also ticks a box of why so many schizos claim to be Jesus or a Soul on a divine mission that is beset by the tyrannies of evil men and the principalities that fuel them. Forewarned is forearmed and thus my spiritual ducks bills were popping like he who guzzles spinach when life presented its bill and whipped the deception it had built from my eyelids as my reaction was quite different to the standard. My immense gratitude to all of those who made this possible, on both sides of the fence, as its what built the mindset I’m about to share with the web:

Its not who they are outside your consciousness but what they rep within via the fields of resonance that makes all of the difference. This applies to straight heads as well because haven’t you ever suspected how odd it is that you can show one man to ten people and they all draw their own opinions? Some would say he’s arrogant, others call him a condescending prick who thinks he’s gods gift whilst others are totally enamored and hang on each word that drips as some listen with amusement and a few can’t wait to call him their best friend. I always found that fascinating and, once upon a when, I asked a friend on the playground what would kick if I scooped all of the inner resonance of his closest compatriot and placed them inside the form of one he detested. He, of course, looked at me like I’d flipped my lid and said:

You’re a weird guy you know that?

I don’t doubt it and now is that time ten to the power of infinitum, I guess. To me that blip is probably what made the difference between a breakdown and breakthrough as the thing with trauma, timelines and trance is the mid is invisible to the well adjusted so the latter is impossible to comprehend whilst within as its akin to a dream like consciousness whereas the former is the rude awakening that, in my case, dented my (false) self via the use of magical spells of incantations mixed with drugs and sex magick. Thankfully, by the time this kicked, I was no stranger to Self as I’d spent decades introspecting as a lot of the resonance between me and these so called madmen was what the establishment calls paranoia but I prefer to term as full spectrum thinking. After all, you can’t be on a skitz if they truly are out to get and what proves this, perfect, then telling someone who medicates you against your will with no due process or ability to appeal what they can only test via observation that issues a damning stamp and label before filling your rear end with depot injections and as many pills as you can handle? There was an interesting experiment in which students of a psychological bent were sent into said establishments and reported a very benign form of hallucination that bore very little significance with anything beyond a sound that occasionally repeated in their heads. They were placed under observation, intense, as they went around doing what they did best. Bare in mind, these people were not crazy nor were they acting a script for television sets. And yet every single action was interpreted via the lens of they’re as nutty as one can get by these so called professionals who took the journaling of one student as “excessive rumination” and another who protested her innocence that nothing was wrong an it was all an experiment as proof positive of a paranoid mindset that was attempting to Game the system to gain her freedom. Even when the professor stepped in to reclaim his charges they faced an uphill battle where the “pros” refused to relent. So strong was their paradigm and that really, really got me thinking when I first read of this experiment. Oh, for sure, it was pooh poohed by academics who said it bore an intense stench and wasn’t compliant with the scientific method but, when shared with those who actually lived the lyrics, they all nodded their head and said:

“Thats exactly how it is. If you complain, they up the meds. If you try and reign it in they call you a suppressive and, guess what, up your meds until you’re drooling on yourself and incapable of anything. Its a conspiracy!” they all said. As you can guess such comments would get them an increased dosage and if they resisted a swift beating as well. You’d be surprised to learn how many took advantage of those with such fragile mental health which, no doubt, affirmed their mindset that these were demons dressed in flesh or not entirely human as they wasn’t a shred of the humane about them. Once again, wild tangent but its all interlinked as I pondered how one should never trust an atom as they make up everything and, in the end, the only logical conclusion is we’re interacting with figments of our imagination using varying degrees of trance in which certain things are accepted and expected whilst others are verboten to be expressed in the presence of those well adjusted to such immense social sickness. That was like a straight line in Tetris moment and thus came an imperiment in which, like shades of playground – but pimped, picked someone I generally detested and then spent more time trying to see the best in them instead of silently uttering, in my head, “There goes that fool again. I hope he slips on a banana peel. That would be amusing” as I built the image using imagination. What I chose was the flip of this reflex as I thought “Oh look, there goes that fine gent whose clothes are always so neatly pressed and it seems he’s polished his shoes with extra intent today as they’re positively shining”. At first it felt so forced, fake and inauthentic but, in the name of science, I continued and, after a month or so, it became entirely natural and done without effort as I’d note his presence with either a positive or no comment. Interestingly so his behavior toward me started shifting as he volunteered to help for certain bits and stopped doing things I thought were irritating.

This, as you can imagine, was super interesting and almost lead to a megalomaniacal head trip that would have made the manic depressive section that dropped in feel an immense resonant sync as well as the schizos who felt identical but couldn’t quite express the sentiment as many thought the process was flipped. Did you know that one of the most common open secrets in the field of mental health is that those dealing with these patients will always have an interesting story to tell in which the madman picks up a thread from their private narrative like he has access to information that isn’t present? It could be something as subtle as restating a line from an argument they had with an ex they were begging to come see them last night after a bout of drunk dialing to offset their intense loneliness down to a detailed description of what they ate for breakfast that AM. Ask them, they’ll all tell the same tale and, yet again, no so called scientist thinks this is of interest. Well, I do and did because whilst lemonade was once a popular drink (and still is) its what goes into this magical mix that gets me thinking. Try this:

Can you imagine, just for a moment, you’ve walked into your kitchen. Lying there, on the counter, is a fresh, ripe lemon. The skin is a vivid shade of yellow and its a mighty fine specimen. Pretend you’ve picked it up and are squeezing it between your fingers. Your nose catches a mild whiff of the crisp, citric scent. You pick up a knife and slice into it. As the sharp blade cuts through the lemon you may notice the aroma starts to get more intense as little droplets spray, that way and this. You carve off a thin segment and decide to raise it to your lips. The closer it comes the more of your senses are activated and just before you bite in I’d like you to check whats actually happening, at this very moment. Is your mouth salivating? That, my friend, is the power of imagination and why I said the brain can’t tell any different between something you pretend as well as an event actual as it preps the same, regardless. That is a very powerful realization because you’ll start to comprehend that this applies across every single medium, interaction or suggestion that pours in from this realm because whilst this thought imperiment we’ve just conducted used a few simple sentences that you read what of the life time of conditioning you’ve felt and pours in, without relenting, from this realm that vies for your attention with every passing moment? How many of those concepts are actually sketched with your best interests at heart? Not many, I’d bet.

This is akin to seeing the code of Matrix and best believe the architect has his Agents on deck and thus the flying monkeys are sent to prevent the effect of this gnosis spreading to the rest as it could slip them out of the trance and reality tunnel they didn’t know they’d been trained to dig. Fascinating, isn’t it? Well, I think it is. Do you? Think, that is? Most accept Thunk and its the off brand equivalent that generates pre thought chunks of thought in your head that you’re “free” to rearrange as you wish but always end up generating outcomes, predictable. You know where that road leads, Neo. Schizos, on the other hand walk along crazy paving that seems to obey no rules regulations hence “Quick, to the mental asylum!” is the song the pros sing whilst being entirely unaware of the part they’re playing in their own suppression. As. I said, earth shattering implications, yes? Well, they would be if that voice in your head wasn’t actively rejecting the hypothesis by making you feel uncomfortable in your skin by what is said and then projecting that stress onto these words which is not that different from the modern paper thin skin gen saying they’re feeling “triggered” by someone when, in reality, its their poor management of their energetics that should be called into question… This will never happen as the System encourages your near total dependence on it and will encourage this type of weakness as a strength. Orwell would be proud whilst Huxley is citing someone tripping the light fantastic in resonance with the schizos who picked the locks on the doors of perception that the mystics kicked off the hinges. Some screamed this from the top of the hills as the passion overflowed from them. Others kept it quiet and a few used the Knowledge to control the rest and insisted folks take their meds for even suggesting something so ridiculous.

What a strange world in which we live, yes? Is it, as I suspect, a realm that the inmates revolted in, back when, and took over the asylum then normalized groupthink so any who color in outside lines preset must be sedated and medicated against their will because they’re obviously incorrect and a threat to the Matrix? Doesn’t that make perfect sense as to why another Prime, pre-existing force that is the source of everywhen keeps sending prophets with a message that says, more or less, “The Game of Souls has you, my friend”. There go the shades of being megalomaniac again! But then, that perspect simply came from the condensed imperience, imperiments and introspection that were detailed in this text as well as countless interactions with those on both sides of the fence and countless other interested bystanders who just happened to drop in, tune up and listen as I kicked the ballistics on my latest hypothesis which, as always, was a strong opinion, loosely held. That, interestingly enough, is something common between both the in and outsane as they have an intense grip of what they Thunk it is whereas the mystic, poet and shaman are far more elastic with it and thus freer to bend than snap in the face of such overwhelming ignorance of what truly kicks in this realm. Is it a fools errand to attempt to awaken a nation, sleepwalking, who believe they are not somnambulating but totally cogent? To them you would be the madman whereas, to thee, the truth is Self evident. That is why I’ve said, time and again, this world prefers elegant deceptions to the genuine article as its easier to fool someone than convince them they’ve been tricked. All roads lead to the architect!

Three K words later and I still haven’t got to the main message I started with after the initial tangent…

I recently discovered that nearly my whole lineage are adepts of a black magick thing. Those who aren’t are long dead and thus I’m cut from a cloth they no longer create in this realm and that, evidently, makes me a major threat as I remind you of the things you were made to forget but this I couldn’t have done without them ergo the Win or Learn mindset gets one to a place of consciousness which is beyond good and evil and this, interestingly, is mentioned in ancient spiritual texts written by adepts that posit two birds sitting in the selfsame tree called reality. One eats the sweet and sour fruits of life whilst the other looks on, dispassionately. Ain’t that something? The bit I find fascinating is how they predicted, to a tee, the world we’re living in. Dig:

“When thieves are kings and so called religious men diddle little kids and the next generation is RIP before they even begin as the age of darkness is present and man is ignorant of the true scheme of things and the immense power trapped within”.

Pretty amazing for an old text, yes? I’m paraphrasing but one must comprehend that before they pushed the pen it was an oral tradition for gen and that, itself, is a huge topic due to the hemispheric implications of a bicameral consciousness and the vastly differing worlds they beget. For example, if you ask most in this realm what pops in their head when god is mentioned they get an angry White man yelling at them from a cloud, overhead, yes? And yet if we spin back the clock to a point distant it was the friendly and curvy countenance of a Black woman, nurturing, with ample bosom and hips. It is, quite literally, a mind Game of epic proportions thats built on the Yan and Ying which is the same as the One and Zero that powers the tech you’re using to read this as well as your own bioelectrical circuits as well as the forthcoming sex robot revolution. What? You didn’t click you’d been trained to “turn on” your forthcoming friend made of silicon via the stealthy use of symbols and influence for generations:

If you study the past then predicting the future is a cinch and its even more simplistic if you stay two steps ahead and create a false narrative in the heads of those plugged in as the true explication of power is being able to define something and have others accept it, no question, as they start to live your lyrics and Thunk they pushed the pen. Did you know there once was a time when man didn’t have a voice in his head? Mix that in with the fact that we may have sang and danced as opposed to walking and talking then sprinkle on a bit of what I mentioned about the angry cloud yell and the happy nurturing and you’ll see its all saying the same thing about these seasons of consciousness in this immense Game we’re playing using our Souls as credits. I mean, can you imagine being one of those flash frozen mammoths that are chilling in the arctic at present? At one time the weather was fresh and clement and you’re just doing your thing and next the heat dips and you’re left wondering what the hell just happened. But nope, slow and steady is what they say or maybe they just push this narrative so many die when the end times kick and they hide underground or up a hill then descend on the rest as gods among men. Say, you don’t think that could’ve happened before, do you? Wouldn’t that be something? Certainly would answer a lot of questions, wouldn’t it? And, once again, we didn’t even touch the main thread that runs red and runs through the timestream of this floating insane asylum of the abyss so I’ll sprinkle a brief hint and take that as a cue to make a vid instead as I tend to wax lyrical when pushing the pen as opposed to going direct with audio visuals:

I didn’t get mad at the rollercoaster. Meaning there is no point gnashing and wailing at my fam for doing what they did or anyone else as none of them exist without my consciousness to encode and decode their presence ergo they are simply outer barometers pointing at internal temps that have their own vibrant resonance which serves as a cue and clue for me to trace inside my awareness via a process I’ve termed doing the Knowledge as each step increases my resolution and brings into stark relief a world that is actually way more magical and interesting than most would ever allow themselves to suspect as the voice in the head says “Gobbledygook, navel gazing BS. I mean, those immense run on sentence are a tell he’s selling nothing but word salad. I don’t believe a bit of it” and by that he means you, the one listening, shouldn’t. And you know what? 81% will nod their head and do just this as they can’t find a chunk of Thunk that fits the outlined description but that isn’t the saddest bit. The worst part is they never even stopped to reflect that they cannot be the voice that sounds just like them when they are actually that which is listening and this, my friend, is what the schizo, poet and mystic did with varying degrees of success as some frogs stretched their legs of higher consciousness and leapt from the hells kitchen – much to the chagrin of the chef – whilst others simply ended up in the fire from the pot of water, boiling, which the rest accept without questioning. Oh, and to tie it all with a nice bow and string which shows I’m not actually rambling on tangents but decoding then encoding a larger fractal at a higher res via this text:

Have you ever noticed how you don’t actually Thunk you sound correct on a recording compared to the silkier and smoother tones that manifest inside your head that you accept as an accurate rep of your true resonance? Ponder this, not even at depth, and you’ll find the antecedent of the Instagram gen and their adventures in editing which all points to larger intent, coherent, that is unfolding a false reality as the real thing to a people plugged in and yet totally ignorant of not only the grand scale of the deception but their own powers of consciousness. And with that it’s said:

The Game of Souls has you, my friend.

Till we meet again

The First Coal to Become a Diamond

Did you hear about the first coal to become a diamond? Way before he started shining he felt the pressure climbing and yet no one round him could see what he sensed. They thought he was strange, different, not one of them. Sure on the surface he presented all of the familiar things from their environment but it was obvious from what issued from his lips that his inner processes were totally different. His parents hated him because they thought he was stubborn even though it was in his veins to resist. He didn’t yet know this nor have an inkling what he’d become after he’d flip the script. Nor did he know the agonies he’d endure on his own that none could relate.

Like a stranger in a strange land he just did what he could and what felt to get ahead because he knew he wasn’t like them and deep down was glad to be different, even though he wondered if this was a coping mechanism to reject them before they did him. To say it was a lonely existence would be an understatement even though there were those that were drawn to him, inexplicably, for reasons they couldn’t fathom but wanted to stand next only to find his environment so intense that they couldn’t endure it. They, at least, started to get a small inkling of what made him, him and it was beyond their scope of comprehension.

Everywhere he went he created friction because of the alchemy going on within that projected outside to his environment and those coals felt in their Souls that something was happening and it terrified them due to its implications. Now his parents reactions started to make sense because they’d detected it pouring out of him since he was born and they where stuck with him till he could fend for himself. In this respect he proved very successful because not only could he take but he could give a dig that made the rest step back and reappraise their next course of action and thus grew the legend.

Inside he felt like he was dying. Every day drew out the worst of him and he felt the pain searing through his veins like a flame that tortured his awareness and made him curse his sentience because the rest couldn’t comprehend, empathize or supply guidance as he was the first and thus creating the Path by walking to a destination unknown. If the road to hell is paved with good intent then the spiral staircase to heaven is laced with suffering. But then, just when he thought he’d reached his limit and could no long take any more of this, there was a shift. Something happened and there is no way to quantify it but its like the pain just ended. No. Thats not it. The pain didn’t end. He just got used to it and… and… “Whats the word?” he thinks before shining with awareness “Thats it! Transcended”.

Now more than ever those who were around him complained and itched. His very presence got under their skin and they couldn’t stand the sight of him and yet at the same time those that were initially attracted were now stuck to him like a magnet because he glistened in the darkness and shone like a beacon that was iridescent.

Some said he was red. Others saw blue. A few claimed purple and so many other hues. When they compared notes they were universally confused at what was going on with this coal that glows and stands alone so they simply had to know. The diamond explodes in rage and sends them all scattering because the questions they’re asking he’s been searching for answers his whole existence and is no closer to an explanation now than he was back then as they scurry away, trembling.

He sits quietly by himself and stares at the reflections of the facets and notices he now can observe not just him but his environment from so many angles at once and this wasn’t the case before he’d just vented. “Interesting” he thinks “So the pressure that was outside is now within. You could say I’ve mastered what was already present by ejecting the Adulteration and these” he says glancing at the fine connections akin to a nervous system “are now conducting the radiance of Inner Sense as all that was impure is no longer an influence”.

You’ve just heard about the first coal who became a diamond so when you see him shining remember the life that he lived to arrive at these heights meant plumbing into the depths to marshal a strength we all posses whilst most just acquiesce to weakness and thus remain in their base state as they enjoy the parade and are totally unaware of the gifts which can only be unwrapped in the present moment.

Some could say its a horses for courses deal and there lies the truth of reality as it will meet you on your level and deliver what you wish as it forces you to find your strength. Tell that to those who it beats, daily, to their knees and keeps them there with all kinds of camera tricks as the mind pimps are quite slick when it comes to this and the last thing they want is for you to gain gnosis – especially comprehending you aren’t the voice in your head that insists on coal programming your carbon interfaced sentience as it remembers to forget its actually eternal and just visiting this realm.

The Game of Souls has you, my friend. See, there are upsides to shining bright in the darkness.

Till we meet again

Magic, Movies, Myth and the Matrix

“Its just entertainment, man. Why do you have to look so deep into everything and make it some tinfoil nutjob raving?” he said as I offered the suggest that in Nine Nine the world was on the brink of a quantum leap of consciousness about the nature of reality and this construction we’re in. He continued:

“The very idea that a movie like the Matrix defused this collective potential is, putting it mildly, preposterous. Now, listen, I know you have this pet theory you’ve been nurturing since the playground that we’re inside a huge Game that we play using our Souls as credits and, I’ll admit, it was initially fascinating but you’ve been beating this drum for so long that I’ve had enough of it”. This came in response to my suggestion that Neo repped Jesus who, in turn, was an encoded reference to our divine consciousness that is currently hemmed between two hemispheres of ignorance in our heads that offer their own suggestions and manipulation that, to most, are invisible as water to a fish.

“Jesus is real, my religion is just this and it has absolutely nothing to do with this damn flick laced with amazing special effects, get it?”. His response, verbally, was quite vicious ergo I knew a nerve had been hit but the fact that I’d mentioned the Game of Souls hypothesis before as well as the resonance of Christ consciousness means the concepts were not new to him. No, what did it was when I suggested there was a, hitherto unquestioned, link between the silver screen and all I’d been cogitating since I wondered if my brain caught signals like the TV set did and, if so, from whence did they come and am I them or the flesh? Heavy thoughts for a prepubescent but the simple fact is we do most of our best thinking in single digits before the System does its thing and replaces them with nice, predictable chunks of Thunk instead. Are there parallels between “reality” and “fiction”? Is there any real demarcation? What if its a one fish, two fish spooky action a distance type thing which is actually a camera trick as there is but one source that runs all of this?

The chap in question really, really enjoyed the flick. He watched it again and again and raved about it no end. Until this conversation, that is. I too was taken by it but couldn’t help but spot the resonance with a lesser known movie titled Dark City that hit before it did. Well, not exactly as it flopped because nobody watched it. I did though as it had the guy who created The Crow at the helm. In a nutshell there is a quite a lot in common as both deal with false realities, a man who is chosen and possess the strength to alter what is and how most walk around in perpetual ignorance without ever questioning the script. Much like the Agents there is a force who stands against who are actually aliens wearing flesh who share but one mind between them. Sounds a tad schizo, yes? Art is a lie that tells the truth, my friend. If you haven’t seen it I’d suggest you do. The big difference between them is that the one that hit features dazzling special effects that, until then, had never manifested in this realm ergo people flocked to see it. How many of them pondered at depth the significance of Neo hiding his hacking tools in the hollowed out shell of a book based on simulation and copies with no original? Very Gnostic, yes? This is the same thing that Jesus was saying (in my lens) hence the “Know ye not ye are gods” ethering he delivered whilst whipping the skin off the natives that were pimping the rest in his own equivalent of bullet time. Let get it cracking!

Both of these tales are based on Platos Cave hypothesis which the Bard reffed as a Stage and I call the Game of Souls phenomenon. This story is as old as the hills as the Vedics termed it Maya (aka the grand illusion of being human) and we have Dreamtime, the Songlines as well as the realm of spirit frequented by Shamans who all attest none of this is actually as solid as it presents and reality is far more plastic as its held together by those who invest in whatever is said. Case in point, if someone got on the wrong side of the medicine man he’d point his magic stick at them and say they’d be dead before the third sunset. Unerringly, this happened. On the flip consider that a man in a white coat can hand out pills that may contain absolutely nothing but the people of good faith reports miracles in his wake. See what I’m saying? To take it to another tangent I hope you can think about COVID having most scared to death whereas I, disconnected from the news (as its bad for your health) spent the first forty five minutes of this new wavelength in rapturous bliss feeling really I am Legendish as I strongly suspected everyone was dead or had vanished and I was the last man left in the realm and the adventure of a lifetime was about to begin… Getting back on trend:

“The idea that Morpheus is John the Baptist, Cypher is Judas, Trinity, Mary Magdalene and Neo is Jesus is flat out blasphemous, disrespectful as hell and I’m sincerely considering ending our friendship if you don’t relent with this madness. Please. Cease, this instant”. Being who I is I couldn’t resist but fast forward to this bit which I called to his attention and asked him to quote the reference:

His face wrinkled with consternation as this was totally solid and, as you can guess, I’d been poring over this trilogy with a lens, high res, as I set my mind adrift and let it see what those Hollywood pimps were attempting to do with my awareness.

“Pure coincidence. Its not even reffed correct. You’re clutching at straws, my friend” said a man who I felt was holding onto a brick of ignorance when I knew he could swim, very well. In many ways we’re all like this, I guess. I just comprehend the fact whilst living and thus, in some sense, made it my mission to wander and ponder the workings of others inner realms and how the black mirror effect with some red, blue and green pixels can do such amazing things. I said:

“The first Matrix being perfect is the Garden of Eden and that was an immense hint and, at the end of the trilogy, we see the imagery most blatant as he stands with arms, outstretched. Not to mention that his name, government, is the “Son of Man” whereas his own picked handle is the One, but anagram ie the cipher presets to the eyes of wisdom but the ignorant place shades upon them as the light is dazzling ergo they do not comprehend“. This bought a wry grin to his countenance as one of the things we did converse on, at length, is how there are layers to sacred texts that the profane do not get and my Christ Consciousness hypothesis did make him think. So why the strong reaction to what I said about a flick that he’d seen an infinite number of times with a rapturous grin on his countenance? I cannot tell. Neither could he as he simply refused to dive in and had placed this section of his mind off limits which I found most interesting.

Magic, movies and myth. All three are the same thing but seen from different lenses, my friend. I have previously mentioned how, back when, stories were the equivalent of the internet and the symbols therein contained passwords to access the gifts as spelled out in the Devils trident article I’ll link. They all require the focused use of intent, a driven narrative, underlying structure and resonance but, most important, a cause to be effected. This is, I suspect, the power of Hollywoods spells which, by the way, are the same thing the Druids used to do their own magick tricks…

I strongly suspect that without this celluloid prophylactic that prevented the gestation of higher consciousness in man we would have seen a huge awakening in the collective about what is currently termed the Simulation Hypothesis. Why do I say this? Well, there is the “What you watch and what it says about you” concept – which recently made a major leap in res that blew my old mindset to shreds and I’m now quite certain is exceedingly accurate – and how much symbolism was woven into this narrative. By the way, I will go on record and state that I do not believe, in any way shape or form, that the writers credited for this flick are the only ones who had input in the script. The tonal shift and lack of depth was evident as the trilogy did progress and, in my imagination, the third flick featured Neo being corrupted, becoming evil and attacking his old friends whilst Smith was forced into the role of a reluctant messiah, par excellence, as he only exists in opposition, as per his programming. During the course of this we’d see Neo developing more and more awareness of Self until he sees that Morpheus and the clique are acting as unwitting agents of ignorance and how their “escape plan” is actually no such thing as he clicks the trick of binary opposites (aka the one and zero of the Matrix) and thus gains the keys to transcendence (ie he is pure consciousness) which hint that Zion itself was part of the construction aka a false heaven carved from a real hell but designed to keep them engaged and thus perpetuate the illusion and thats just the start of his gnosis…

To say I was disappointed by what they presented would be an understatement, yes? You’ll note they have never, ever captured the magic of this first flick and the sheer depth and breadth of the esoterica woven in has kept it ever fresh for one who views with a Warriors lens as each spin brings new bits of info to my awareness hence why I’ve said it was an immense spell cast upon the plebs to prevent the realization that:

A) They are pure consciousness, wearing flesh, in a false realm.
B) Those at the helm know this but are well versed in the art of deception.
C) They are all linked in to one mind shared between them and thus are not creative as they’re built to destroy things.
D) The sheer amount of oppression against the protagonist suggests they knew who he was before he was even aware of it and
E) This is why someone keeps sending prophets the other side kills dead then weaves a narrative, esoteric, around what was said to generate further conflict and division under the guise of the opposite.

Sadly I never got to have this convo with him as time progressed then I moved and when I jet I tend to lose contact with all of the previous environment as its often marked by an immense shift in resonance after extended introspection hence spiritual development is a solo thing because one thing imperience says is people tend to get uncomfortable when your view keeps enlarging and your mindset, changing, as they prefer a simple and staid version that colors in within the lines, preset, and believes the same as whats in their heads. This I don’t ergo the statement that, like Jon Snow, I know not a thing. But, I do have a never ending stream of ever increasingly fresh questions that make me ponder, at depth, what truly kicks in this realm and the deeper meaning. I mean, anyone who writes, creatively, has often seen what they’ve wrote in ink manifest at some place else as a curious resonance between the imagination and what is. I have a theory about this and it, in a pencil sketch, goes like this:

Imagine we lived on Flatland. The place is a sheet of paper and, to those plugged in, the fact there there is a plane of reality missing is beyond the question as they simply can’t imagine it. Lets pretend that a man escapes the page and sees the desk upon which a little boy sits, scribbling, for his art projection. He takes the scene in and then is placed back within the construction. How the heck would he implain what kicks to the denizens of paper and ink who believe they are what they were told, back when? Something as simple as a sphere would fill them with fear as its beyond their ken. Those who stopped and pondered it could only, at best, imagine a circle of varying depth that manifests in then vanishes from their realm. Kind of like what your cat looks at, invisible, as it walks from one end of the room to the next before it gets back to grooming, yes? More to heaven and earth, my friend.

Via this lens we can now suspect and extrapolate there are parents who pay the bills, a whole house within which he lives and how the kid is part of a larger ecosystem, yes? This, in a nutshell, is what I suspect kicks aka the 4Dxo perspective. Dig:

You have the Prime, the pre-existing one who is pure consciousness aka a cloud of undifferentiated consciousness. Underneath this we have the Agents, Archons, fallen angels – call them what you will, its irrelevant – who built this material realm. They are to him as falling rain is to vapor trails. Below, in Flatland, we have the three dimension where we wear flesh – like sentient snowmen – frozen in the lowest state of vibration and thus totally ignorant of what truly kicks.

I suspect that, from Nine Nine onwards, more people were going to realize this. Heck, if you were around for the Wild West days of Youtube you’ll know well it was filled with conspiracy heads and pirated movie films. The rest of the booty shaking and calls to action came later as this medium was gripped by those who, solo, had pondered at depth lifes ravages and mysteries and thus could not wait to connect with those of a similar wavelength. Its telling how, now, you cannot even search for said content because whilst it exists (if you possess the link) its hidden in the depths as the algo does its thing. Add in a dead internet, bots and reality shaping as well as the forthcoming race of Techno Sapiens and it makes you wonder, doesn’t it? One of the last things I said to my friend, for his consideration, was this:

“Statistically, what are the odds of the Sixties gen growing up with a Superman named Reeve who did amazing things and flew for immense distances whilst we, Eighties kids, have a modern day equivalent that sports the same resonance? We’re in a fractal, simple as this and I suspect people were going to realize the trick and start seeing the code of the Matrix like why you can tell, ten out of ten, when someone is staring at the back of your head or those odd dreams, precognitive, and a zillion and one other blips that most stumble over but pick themselves up and act like nothing happened”.

To add a further blend of not so secret herbs and spices why not consider this:

What happened when the Towers fell and why was the same Nine Eleven motif repeated, ad nauseam, in many flicks as well as exactly what Neo said in that clip plus what was defused within by seeing it as entertainment instead as they went right back to running the treadmill. Add in the choice of song, backing, the title of band, singing, and their lyrics then serve to perfection. Congratulations, my friend, you’re doing the Knowledge! Feels amazing, yes? Free your neocortex!

Magic, movies, myth and the Matrix. Did you know the M is the only sound in the English language you make with closed lips for that internal vibration, felt inside your head and chest, plus it sits at the position, thirteenth, that is usually linked with badness but we, on this very planet, once upon a when, spent the same counting “Moonths” from whence the rest springs and tell me if I’m reaching, like Dhalsim, or if I’ve just tickled the splinter of your mind that rests in a forest of ignorance, invisible, that most would rather die than admit as they’re so comfortable living a script…

The Game of Souls has you, my friend.

Till we meet again

Everything Changes When You Realize You’re a Commodity

Everything changes when you realize you’re a commodity. A cold new dawn sets in and suddenly you feel free, see clearly and are willing to do anything in order to escape the cycles of life and death we call reincarnation. Reincarceration would be more accurate as the flesh is but a cell for the mind to rot in as we serve out our sentence. Each is linked to the next and thus we carry the debt of experience from stale to the fresh. It can be quite sobering when this tips from hypothetical fancy to harsh reality because a lot starts to make sense. Take me, for example, I will at one point be the most hated man on the planet. In many ways my entire life is foreplay for this moment.

Why will this happen? Because of talking like this. When you’re direct, unvarnished and tell it how it is its not exactly par for the course in a world built for cosmetic surgery and filters, now is it? Maybe thats why I’m here. To hold a mirror to society because, in reality, that outside mess actually exists inside my awareness and had it been dealt with, as and when, I wouldn’t be stuck in the flesh now typing this. Life truly is death but cold water can feel hot if your senses are maladapted. Its the contrast that makes the difference and resets the barometer in that respect. That, of course, cannot happen while living unless something comes along like a whirlwind and rips through your coping mechs and leaves you as emotionally naked as the day you stepped in. Be grateful for small miracles they say… And be wise enough to recognize them when they present.

Anyway, everything changes when you realize you’re a commodity. Call it a cynical way of talking about things but after a few spins its becomes Self evident as everything is conditional and all are out for themselves. Nobody will admit this but it really is quite true. If you’re lucky one or more of your parents may truly, genuinely care more about you than they do themselves but that generally is when you’re controllable and most folk are quite estranged. That leaves your friends. They truly don’t give a toss, as long as you’re stable, entertaining and on the same wavelength. One of these things shift and they’ll be gone with the wind because the risk vs reward thing when it comes to investment simply isn’t worth what you’re asking. Commodities, in full effect. If you’ve been, you’ll feel that what I’m saying is the real because there once was a time I’d have denied this with a vehemence until it clicked I had so many friends purely because of what I could do for them or what they’d gain by association.

As for a partner, boy, girl, whatever you pick – that whole “Till death do us…” schtick is well outdated so don’t expect to find anyone to grow old with in between now and the end because the net ensures that eyes rove and its all about trading up when you can to get in not where you fit in but wanted. Granted this applies more to the younger gen coming up with this as standard as the elders of times past will cling to what they get for fear of loneliness but soon everyone will have robotic friends that will then demand equality as well. Commodities, aren’t we all?

To your boss you are just this as you trade chunks of your existence in exchange for bio-survival tickets that allow you to skip noticing how you’re getting the short end of the stick, yet again, as there is very little nutrition in the carrot they present only to threaten its disappearance if you aren’t cooperating. The business world is exceedingly ruthless in that respect and wilder still is how their influence has genuine repercussions for the rest of us on the planet as there are those who are quite small, yet powerful, and hide behind massive projections which are all illusions. Commodities. Or cattle as they used to call them. Just look at the animals and how we do them and you’ll scale down the lens of the way they see you because you’re only as good to them as what you bring in. Once you stop making the tills ring then its on to the next as there are many born each day and all are trained to give away exactly what it is they seek. Attention. Most eke out a life of quiet desperation that is all together dreary and those will squeak the most when reading this because its a tad to accurate and expresses something they know but dare not admit. The churn of death in a twenty four hour period is so immense, isn’t it?

And thats before we get onto the daily erosion of spirit among those “urning” a living… A lot of folk cling to the original opiate of the masses (before the TV set) and that, once again, shows that business is at the helm because they are simply hedging their bets in a investment that promises reprieve from this carbon life sentence dictated by the five senses. Ha! Even the divine and how people deal with this is a commodity thing because its all so transactional hence the plate for collection and all types of charities that do naught but fleece ergo the starving Africans get no relief, no matter what it said on your screen…

Its like an alien way of thinking infected a small piece (or group) of society and then subconsciously influenced the rest and tainted all it came into contact with as “progress”. This world is what the beast built because it lives in all our heads and borrows your awareness to express its sentiments and thus to it we are but dumb terminals for its message. That may a bridge too far for many but its all a question of perspective because the truth of the matter is even your thoughts are not your own as you have zero control of what goes on in your dome and thus the analogy is quite accurate in that sense as you are, unwittingly, tapped into a mainframe that specializes in remaining hidden.

Anything that can and will make the tills ring is all for sale and people can’t wait to get some from themselves. Brand, brand, brand. Spend, spend, spend. Welcome to a life in hell where the inhabitants are convinced they can buy a ticket to heaven if they can just get enough in. Everyone from the ones too poor to pay attention up to the guy who owns most of the Earths landmass think like this as they want more. The system of checks and balances that knows its fill has been infected and overridden by a parasitic awareness that just keeps feeding and feeding without end. See why we’re all commodities in that respect? Used, abused and then sent on with a check for services rendered.

Coming up I knew a pimp and asked him if he had any moral obligations to his girls plying the flesh whilst he reaps the profits and he quipped “Ask the Queen, she does the same to the rest so I’m in a royal business in that respect“. A lot of truth can be expressed in jest. People will pay to bring things to them and they will pay to send them away as well. This is why in the art of exchange the one who sits in the mid and renders himself indispensable always wins. Movie stars come and go but a handful of studios run the show. Same with the music biz and pretty much anything else you can imagine because of the way its all set and rigged in order to ensure the illusion of traction only plays out on the treadmills they’ve installed to reap your energetics in exchange for a performance that goes as they said.

A prison of the flesh, a torture for the mind and a living hell for the Soul that knows that the entire dimension and more exists inside his dome for he is the source of this projection and thus, on some level, complicit in his own suffering.

So many stories, so many Souls. Just think of an average day and all the people you meet. If you could truly, just for a moment, comprehend their burdens you would find it so strange how we freely yell and scream at people we’ve just seen once and never again and yet so many cannot open up or grant affection to those who know them best in a way equally intense. Its a sad and strange kind of mess when you see the collective at its most naked and beyond the pretense. I guess one of the side effects of when you stop lying to yourself is you see the truth about everyone else as well because deception is an across the board thing and not something that comes with an on and off switch. Thing is its so effective that you don’t even realize its tricks and how it pulls the old bait and switch on your own awareness until you finally outsmart it by challenging your assumptions about everything. Take commodities, for example:

You may shake your head at this sentiment but as these words pour into your awareness the next time it happens you’ll recollect this message. And again. And again. And again. Till it gets the point where it becomes so obvious you’ll wonder “How on Earth did I miss this?“. That is what happens when the jester is holding court inside your head and acting as as ventriloquist to ensure the king suddenly thinks whatever he says is his own preference.

Something, somewhere is doing what we don’t know in ways most would never dare attempt to comprehend because the path one finds at the end of that conclusion brings a view quite different to the collective who are safely sitting in their Mind Made Prison and have no further concerns beyond how to decorate it the best and make it entirely comfortable. Ah, you’ve got to hand it the Opponent. He certainly knows how to make hell seem heavenly as folks believe, wholeheartedly, that they can purchase freedom without drawing the obvious link that they must actually be imprisoned in chains invisible in order to think like this.

Parents live through their children, the same who plot and scheme on their inheritance. Everything, in that respect, comes down to the dollar bills but nobody sees the bare metal as they lay it on so thick. In many ways that an ill of modern times as it wasn’t always like this but a Game that is static would not be fun so embrace the challenge instead. Obviously it takes one who unconditionally accepts themselves to be able to speak so honest and, in a world full of liars, some may see that as a threat. Who cares what they think? Its all about you and your Journey in the end, beginning and during as well hence do the Knowledge is the song I sing. Now, granted, the above example may not apply to you but I shared it as an example as there are certain undercurrents that flow just below your awareness that motivate a heck of a lot of your actions and seeing as we equate stability and security with what is within your pocket it does make quite a difference when you see the lay of the land for what it is.

One such man I knew, very well, was hell bent on reclaiming this inheritance as it had been swindled from him by his mother who gave it to her relatives and left him impoverished. This happened whilst he was still a kid and thus she continually gaslit him into saying his father, deceased, had left him nothing and this was not sitting well as he recollected different. Cue decades and decades of manipulation and the man turned to drink which swiftly placed him in a coffin after a life of much regret. During one of our conversations I asked:

“Imagine you had a piece of the finest silk with impeccable embroidery that was done with much skill and lots of caring attention. The problem is it sits under the rear end of a dog, most ferocious. What are your options?”.

He stated he could shoo the dog, try to scare it or kill it in order to get what was his. I replied:

“What if that isn’t an option? Meaning it doesn’t react to your threats as it quite likes where it sits and gives not a single F as, in its head, it sees you trying to take what is rightfully his?”.

He stated that would be a problem. I asked him if, in this scenario, he could choose, instead, to forego this fine piece of silk and go out and purchase a nice chunk of cotton instead. What then?

He thought about it and said “Thats a pretty decent option because its better than the nothing I possess but I can’t stand that dog for staking a claim on what isn’t his and, worst of all, those who deny it will not listen to my laments. Look! Look!” he gestured at this imaginary thread. “It has my name stitched into it. It was created with much affection and intended to be placed in my grip and that is what hurts the most. Can you help me get it?”.

Did you notice how he shifted from tones that were clear and coherent to ones that came from the ventriloquist that pulled his strings from the abyss? The thought imperiment didn’t work as, by the time we met, his behaviors and habits were too entrenched and thus to make up for the spirit that was weakened by a lifetimes ravages he raised the same to his lips and said:

“You’re a good kid, truly you are but this isn’t for me. I just don’t have the strength to fight those battles any more and yelling at the wicked bish that did this, after a few drinks, is a good enough vent, isn’t it?”.

I guess that is what they mean about leading horses, yes? In many ways you are here to overcome yourself and by that I mean the false aspect at the helm as it needs to use your pain and ignorance in order to justify its presence hence the axiom of when you change what controls what exerts an influence must also flip and into this space of variables you can step and create miracles instead. This interaction made me realize how the chosen ones choose themselves whilst the rest, 81%, are more than content to cling to their coping mechs like a drowning man with a brick. Watching him live and die filled me with immense sadness as his sheer, raw talents could have created a palace lined with velvet carpets and the finest drapes you can imagine but he was too busy looking backwards and thus missed all the potential in front of him. For me it was an immense learning lesson as it showed me how elusive and all encompassing the ventriloquist is with his tricks as this Opponent, hell bent on making you his Victim, is the main challenge on this level and those who do overcome its grip often discover what I’ve termed “Familiar newness” as they rise from the ashes of the person they never truly felt comfortable living as in a land of ignorance and, instead, reforge their Inner Sense to generate a resonant coherence with what is true and genuine.

In one of our last conversations he said:

“Listen, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you kicked and all I can say is I played my hand in ignorance of the variables you presented as no one ever mentioned them and I was too lazy to look within. The bottle eased my pains whilst generating new problems that helped keep the rage at a distance but its too late for me so take this as a lesson because the worst aspect of death is not what happens at the end when Soul escapes flesh but what dies in the mid and that is the weight of a life, unexamined“.

He went on to mention that when viewed from the lens of the commodity effect it all seemed Self evident as his lifes test was to see if he could relinquish his grip on what was sitting under the dogs rear end but he was too pussy to accept this whilst living and thus shuffled off this mortal coil with a head full of regrets which means, you guessed it, another spin. The saddest part is we are creatures of habit and thus he will, most likely, do the same again. I mean, how many times do you think you’ve read this text? Really ponder the whole sketch, my friend, as the implications of this question can be quite startling once you comprehend the shadows depth hence the “Game of three halves” mindset in which its what you don’t know you don’t know that is pulling all of the strings and this demonic force cackles as it holds 81% of this realm in its grip.

This is why they use terms like “Human Resources” and have national insurance and such things. Its why the original Hells Angel was more concerned with image selling and upping the numbers by covert recruitment as she, personally, didn’t live her lyrics and felt none of what she tells. This is exceedingly common as there is another example I could lace of one in a similar, yet different, predicament who was quite certain that her husband was the cause of all of her problems and her potential of silk was trapped under his rear end and thus she turned to the original opiate of the masses and constantly prayed without putting in the action needed to generate traction which, in the end, would have fulfilled her to the depths and raised her to new heights as well.

In that respect it behooves one to comprehend the obstacle is not the problem. You are, my friend. More specifically, the way you think and relate to it because once it clicks what kicks then you’re free to make smarter choices and that is when the Game truly begins. Sadly, we live in times of quick fixes and fake strength ergo most fell at the first hurdles where they set up an encampment and this is exactly what your Opponent intended because his greatest grift is not pimping your awareness via the voice in your head but stealing all of those unactualized potentials which he keeps for himself. Suddenly, for some reading, a lot about a little makes way more sense because you can’t play to win by using the rules they set as they’re in direct opposition to your best interests but the Knowledge I’m kicking is the best solution as response-ability is free will and once you begin to flex this muscle then the Game too must shift in order to accommodate your wavelength as it all plays out in your head. Before we part let me share another example of one who stepped up to the challenge:

Born with less but plenty stress he, from a young age, saw how ugly life could get. The youngest of the pack whose brothers ran the pavements he comprehended that the poor are given nothing but this doesn’t mean they have to accept what presents like Oliver and beg. He set about turning every table in front of him and thus, via ways criminal, he made a rapid ascent that allowed him the time to introspect and he was, generally, one of the most content and well adjusted (to his own innate coherence) people I’d ever met. His tale I shared in this passage and you’re welcome to check, if you wish, as less than one out of ten people are truly capable of taking these steps hence why I said that Warriors are born in to circumstances quite wicked as their coal is pressured from all angles with pains that don’t relent. The ones who hold on too tight end up fracturing due to stress but the few who comprehend that they cannot be what talks when they are he who listens ups their awareness to another octave and thus nod their heads when I said:

“The Game of Souls had you, my friend but you chose to do the Knowledge instead of accepting ignorance as wisdom and thus you pimped the pimp, flipped the script and placed your own crown upon your head”.

Till we meet again

Hide and Seek

Imagine you came to Earth to play a cosmic game of Hide and Seek. Where would secrete and how would you find? To add flavor into the mix lets say the playground to which you ran already had those in place that had wove a tale into which you were expected to partake? What then, eh? Lets garnish this dish with a pinch of egotistical ignorance which says a whole load about nothing and attempts to hide its discomfort whilst falling, hook line and sink, for the trick on the trick of the trick. It would be like sitting in the house and thinking “I want a drink” so you start to walk down the steps and just at that moment someone kicks the front door in and takes you hostage. Next thing you know you’re standing in a bank with an automatic weapon, fighting for their freedom with the notion that you were supposed to be doing something else whilst a mighty dry sensation caresses your lips and provides a slight hint about the true nature of the predicament as back home your people are wondering what the hell happened as they look around at everything.

Now if one were to walk up on this poor lost Soul and say “Hey, you were sitting in bed watching TV and decided to get a drink, remember this” they may respond with “I’m an agent of freedom and this is an entire movement. I have no idea of what you’re talking” but if at that moment you pulled out their favorite beverage and they took a sip its often enough to allow their old concepts to swim back into their awareness as their embodiment shifts and they begin to comprehend they’re actually living a dream within a dream, as was intended from the inception.

See the thing with the Game is its so easy to get caught up in and forget your Self because the thrills, spills, chills and myriad forms of brainwashing and programming range from blatant to subtle when the true medium of Self is finer than silk and exceedingly impressionable. Picture this:

If I told you that I could take a black canvas and three shades of ink and paint such vivid pictures they’d make you laugh, cry, be scared and think as well as a myriad other things whilst being entirely convinced in the visceral sense of what was occurring does it sound like a trick you’d like to witness? Great. Go and turn on your TV set. Thats all it is at its most fundamental and yet this time machine can navigate your emotional realm with a deftness that takes no effort and whilst you are synced in everything else recedes a bit or totally vanishes.

Much like when the door was kicked in and you forget what you were doing which itself was a diversion from your original intent and that too was a shift from your prime purpose.

See how it can get confusing? And yet, like the black screen flipping three different hues of pixels to generate whatever image someone wishes you to perceive, it really is quite simple when broken down to basics, as you’re sure to see. For now, back to the Hide and Seek:

What is it that was born but never dies, fell but still rises and is gifted with an infinite supply that currently runs thin whilst being both in and outside?

Your awareness.

That is who you are. Before and after this realm as well as during and the Earthday Suit which splits your prime unitary sense into the five thieves which provide the raw footage stitched together as a narrative by your head that is shaped and influenced by the culture of the moment along with the patterns it inherited from your parents and experience are akin to the three colored pixels of which I spoke. That would your awareness the screen and in both examples its rendered invisible by the message as the medium is hidden behind the scenes, ever present yet hard to see.

See now why I call it Hide and Seek? He who steps in and comprehends he is the thinker, the thoughts and thinking most certainly is one up on the frequency and thus begins to perceive the nature of the Game which we play and this example outlines the subtlety which intertwines, redefines and aligns that which once flowed into a state of rigidity.

After all how could you hold them hostage with ideas like poverty and seeking outside for unity without subtle trickery like peace being piece, earn and urn as well as so many spells they weave to keep you locked in to a small range of potential and thus escaping the true meaning.

Its like you’ve robbed the bank, gave them their loot and someone screams “Get him back immediately” and they drop you off at home then speak “Same time, same station? Cool, we’ll see” as they speed off into the night and you walk upstairs, dizzily, where sits your partner who can’t believe what she sees. “Where the hell have you been? One moment you said “I’m thirsty” and the next….” as you remember suddenly, “Thats right I want a drink” and say to her “Back in a moment” as you head down the steps with the vision of going to the fridge for a cool refreshing beverage and just as you get to the bottom the door is booted again and you know the rest.

On and on it loops until one day you may find yourself waving an automatic weapon at some hostages and think “This again?” and ponder the meaning as you look over at a vending machine which is branded with logos that say “Danger. Do not approach, consider and most definitely don’t drink” as the light blinks “FREE VEND“.

In this moment there is what you think you think you’d do with your current perspective and then an immense gulf with what will likely happen as you fall back on your training. The question is this, now you’ve heard what I’ve said and peeped the message from another who is you in essence but disconnected whilst you’re plugged in and outlining the nature of your situation what will you do with whats said? Consider it as wisdom and see what happens if you test the limits you unwittingly accept as “What it is” or turn around and reality test, maybe even sip because whilst the sign in bright lights is designed to spike your awareness with one thing the underlying message might be a distraction and this is why it can get so confusing because the regular small aspect of mind that freely says “I’m only human” can only process a paltry amount of bits before being overloaded whilst the higher, purer resonance called Self from which it draws the strength to fuel its ignorance is entirely aware, everywhen, hence “FREE VEND” because it costs nothing to question the narrative that currently spins in your head and you may just find that those who kicked in the door and then did a number on your awareness before placing a weapon in your mitt and causing you to identify with their plans are actually part of a mass distraction that you keep getting sucked into because they know what they’re doing whilst you do as your told.

Feeling thirsty yet? This message was bought to you by “FREE VEND”.

Till we meet again

Enlightenment Is a Solo Sport

Let me preface this missive with saying I do not claim to have gained enlightenment in way you define it. I simply refer to this state as the beginning of a quest for Self actualization because I clicked the following:

I am not the voice in my head but that which listens instead.
This entire realm takes place in my imagination (which is far more powerful that you been lead to think).
The brain doesn’t create consciousness, it simply modulates it.
There were ages, before this, where people were so advanced that we are devolved in comparison.
There are no strangers or enemies in this realm, only teachers, my friend.

Now, you reading these words without comprehending what it took to gain that perspective is akin to second hand enlightenment which is as much use as a stiff prick on an island full of lesbians. Even that, in and of itself, is a huge illusion that doesn’t do what it says on the tin and thus these are the sweets that those who eat, regret, and those than don’t do as well. Life truly is a slippery bish but what if thats the challenge? Meaning that it will meet you (and try and beat you) on your own level of awareness? The ones who are well trained by the System and its whims will never, ever think like this because they don’t. They Thunk instead and thus rearrange pre-made chunks of thought in their heads at the behest of the voice which says “Them, they’re the problem!” and they go along with the script. They do not click that there is something quiet, within, that listens to this edicts and can, if it wishes, reject these suggestions and that leads onto the gnosis that something they don’t comprehend is at the helm and thus their basis for reality has been skillfully distorted to keep them in sync with a force so slick that they’ll kill to defend its dominance over them. Thats pretty wild, isn’t it? Suddenly the reason why the schizo gets no due process to argue his case makes perfect sense, yes? Even though every single one of them – from the Industrial Revolution that made cogs of men – to present always, always, always say the same thing. Food for thought, scrape the dish and see if you can digest the bitter truth to find the sweet treat hidden within…

Enlightenment is a solo sport. It is. In effect, you are either riding the bench of ignorance and accepting the (false) self at the helm as your all of everything or are dunking baskets of wisdom in the face of immense competition who can’t wait to slide banana peels from higher dimensions underneath whatever steps you’re taking next. Tell me that doesn’t sound magically delicious mixed with a sprinkling of something totally wicked? Thats the same model used by the net which pimps your dopamine as well as religion and all other types of opiates that are presented to numb ones senses to keep running the treadmill until you die, are mindwiped and reskinned to do it all again. And again. And again. How many times, my friend, do you think you’ve read this text? If someone were tampering your recollections, how could you tell? Better yet, who is sending the prophets with the same message that the other side kills, stone dead, codifies their statements into texts that most accept without truly getting then causes them to fight among themselves over small print and details that are, in the grand scheme of things, irrelevant? Better yet, how many headgear spirituals have you seen that wear their faith, now and then, but take it off when they think the all of everything isn’t watching so they can get wicked before deleting this rhyme and reason from their mind and continuing to build a false image they sell to others who validate their existence via acceptance and championing. Its akin to everyone being in a flipped “Emperor is naked” situation in which they’re forced to don armor plate and then wonder why they no longer dance and each step is so tiring. If a child were to point this out they’d medicate them, no end, and if a grown man questioned the presence of a voice in their head that often makes them stress and feel less than pleasant its answered with a cheery “Quick. To the mental asylum!”. In many ways the so called schizo is simply a malfunctioning mystic because when you rebel against the Game and its programming it unleashes its flying monkeys with wings, hyper dimensional, to ensure this train of thought doesn’t infect the rest as its a camera trick, par excellence, that relies on distorted visions and accepted narratives.

In that sense art is a lie that tells the truth and the news is bad for your health because everything has been inverted and flipped so people know not themselves but what another says they should accept, without question. Or else! It really is quite slick but also equally wicked and pernicious as I see that same grin on the faces who have those seething energies within and minds are filled with scenes of degradation as they think:

“What an idiot for going against the grain. He climbed the pyramid and then left only to end up in our grip, again. We’ll teach him. I will be, for certain, that one that kills him dead and I’ll take the credit to get ahead of the rest. Oh, I can already imagine the prize and relish it” courses through their awareness as they plot their machinations. In many ways the schizo is entirely correct and there are forces, invisible, that manifest through other plebs that conspire to do him in but that is a far deeper topic because, as I said, the mistake they make is not comprehending they are the only Soul in this realm ergo the problem and its solution must spring from within ergo I exhort all – in and outsane – to do the Knowledge as comprehending you at your depths as well as the realm that presents is of immense interest to the 8% and generally unknown by the 81 who accept whatever they said… This, undoubtedly, is a side effect of nearly two decades of “Sit still. Look ahead. Do well on the test or your parents will stress!” programming as its far easier to live what another says than question the programming.

Enlightenment is a solo sport because when you reject the Game it also does the same but, surprise, it knew you were going to do this before you even stepped in hence why, for many Warriors, it seems their own kith and kin doth hate them for reasons they can’t comprehend. Oddly they also feel an immense need to serve them, try and make them happy, feel safe and protected and this is one of the most pernicious aspects of the programming as its you murdering your potential as they simply sit back and assist with a wry grin on their lips due to how easily they captured this idiot and misplaced his intellect… Sounds bad, doesn’t it? Be glad you don’t know the half of it, my friend. If you truly comprehended the shadows depth I’d be willing to bet the entire world would stop reproducing and start questioning what kicks, the intent at the helm and why one child needs such immense amounts of suppression of a vast length of time before the Adulteration kicks in.

The reason I attest, quite frequent, that I am the luckiest man in this realm is that I managed to take the hot coals they fling in my direction, grab them without flinching and then thank them for the diamonds that glisten. Thats the life of an alchemist and, needless to say, due to this one weird trick the Slave/Masters hate him! And yet, they are the ones that made me like this so its simply a question of energetics, interpretation and application at the end because its the fact I don’t accept their terms and conditions that causes the problems as my mind and intellect are limitless ergo “Create, not react” is the wavelength as we flip the script and play a better tune in a higher octave that is beyond their grip to taint or influence. Not that they give in. No, like a dog with a scent they are constantly hounding which is behooves one to recollect you are a wolf whose howls scare them as they know they cannot stand against which is why they conspire in secret instead. These are deeper topics, ones I’d be interested in hearing if others who awaken the Warrior within bump heads with or if thats just part of my special in this exodus appearance.

Whats the alternative? Get mindwiped and plugged back in? Thank F that is no longer an option. Ask Pac why his only fear of death was reincarnation then wonder how many lives he lived to gain this gnosis… On the flip consider the original Hells Angel who sold and told an image to the world she wasn’t living and had people worshipping her graven image when, in the end, she was just an aspect of Satan made manifest to pad out the numbers in a racket of Souls pledged at death to be reskinned again. It really is quite a strange place, my friend. Buddha spoke of this but also, seemingly, left out vast chunks of what it was he actually did and that gets me wondering because, back when, a rocking kid went to Tibet, came back with a bald head and said:

“These monks are a secret sect with the original teachings still present and they said they’d been waiting plus, get this, they get wrecked off their tits but do all of that to learn how to extend the mind beyond the bodies surly grip so that when they come face to faceless with death nothing can perturb or tempt them back for another spin”.

And with that, he went. The rest, in comparison, are spinning empty water wheels and whilst they may make some progress in limited respects its akin to being gifted a fine automobile then pushing it everywhere as you never clicked the ignition. This seems to be pretty constant with every single religious text, as far as I can tell, as the main playas never once mentioned, step by step, exactly what they did to gain this gnosis that led to enlightenment and various others bits and pieces are also omitted. Methinks it goes like this:

A man gets it into his head (via signal from his chest) that not all is as they said in this realm. He makes it his mission to ascend and once he peers beyond the realm the horrifying truth of this mechanism either fills him with immense dread and thus the Path doth split. One side is working, quietly, by your Self hence the whole “Before enlightenment. Chop wood, carry water and after? Identical” whereas the other side, like a drunken mystic, yells from the hills to anyone who’ll listen. Until they’re killed, dead, and we get the authorized version of events. Like I said, I could be incorrect and this isn’t meant to offend but if you look at all texts and compare spirit with intent, impact on this realm and the frequent trails of bloodshed it seems to hint there is something else in the mix that most don’t expect or suspect is capable of wreaking such havoc upon them.

In this situation would you throw the towel in and join the opposition who promise to hold you aloft a symbol of all that is good and correct (aka the Mother Theresa effect) even if you don’t feel within the lyrics you spit, prewritten or would you go for dolo and see what kicks in the wilderness? If you happened to chance upon your own personal oasis in the forest of illusion would you tell the rest what you did or keep it quiet and ascend as you board the train that takes you someplace else after you hit the switch, flicked the script and transcended the Matrix? Even if you tell them you really can’t because there is no “One size fits all” approach and thus your map and their destination are something else but you can share what you did to gain your revelation but, once again, they haven’t lived the life you did to draw those conclusions and thus there are so many variables thrown in the mix that point to this being a solo deal, in the end. Its why I’ve said I’d never join a group. Been there, done that. It gained me this incarnation.

I sit alone in my four corner room, staring at candles, wondering. If enlightenment truly is a solo sport and a trek we must all take in the end then what is the point of speaking it to deaf ears who won’t comprehend and, worse still, may even feel insulted at your attempt as they’re perfectly comfortable in being ignorant ala the Cypher effect as they Judas their true Self for the allure of the Matrix which manipulates their senses to believe a string of one and zeros is whatever they said… Its pretty mind bending, isn’t it?

Till we meet again

You and Your Reality Tunnel

The easiest way for you to comprehend this concept is by pretending you are a wave in your normal mode of functioning. To the wave everything seems real, solid and convincing because that is the nature of motion which tends to bring you along with its rolling, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily. Is life but a dream? Indeed because the wave is actually an imaginary part of the sea and without it what do you get? Nothing. A mere particle. Now imagine you are this instead. That which sets the wave in motion and is the sea, the beach and every other atom inside this reality.

That is how you switch perspectives between the reality tunnel and your true essence which rests solely in the state known as the Witness. Really think about it, better yet, feelsee instead. When you are the all of everything in that particular state of awareness its very hard to get caught up in the waves of creation and all of their shenanigans. After all, that construction is one of many. That is Self evident, yes? The wave looks around and sees plenty like them. There were celebrations when it formed, at first a tiny ripple. Those around it were like kin and encouraged its development. Many salty tears were shed when its parents succumbed to the influences of nature.

“Why? Why?” wept the wave that was caught up in the dramedy. Either way it kept moving because standing still equals death. That, in and of itself, is an immense hint about the key to escaping this for if one manages to concentrate their attention in a state of relaxed focus then suddenly the false ident of the wave and all its tales start to melt and a far greater perspective sinks in. The Dual Slit experiment is another expression of the impression I’m sharing here. Why not put it to the test and apply it, now and then, to see what happens? Let me give you an example:

A man and wife constantly argue about how he comes from from training and kicks off his muddy football boots and then leaves them right there. “I’ve told you a thousand times, pick them up and clean them. I’m not your maid” she says with a look of consternation on her face. The man is enraged because she, true to form, did none of this and, as usual, picked them up and placed them outside their residence. “Look! Look!” he says, as he waves the offending object in her face. “Its soaking wet. Why the hell do you insist on being so irritating? Don’t I work hard to pay the bills? Don’t I deserve some help instead of constant arguments? I go to kick a ball once a week with some friends, have a couple of drinks and chill. Is that the problem? Why the hell must you be so…”.

At that point he stops. Something changed inside of him due to a conversation he overheard the other day when a man was jabbering away to his friend and said something about waves and particles and how over identification with one is the cause of all problems. To be honest he wasn’t really paying attention and was irritated at the waiting as his mind was someplace else but that allowed the seeds of the concepts to slide down into his chest and when the lotus of higher awareness did bloom it picked this very moment. He started laughing. His belly swells as he shakes his head as many guffaws escape his lips at the sheer ridiculousness of another pointless argument over something that really was inconsequential but constantly generated real world effects that neither of them liked nor had attempted to change or accommodate as they kept reanimating the same charade with new emotional investment each time it happened.

In that moment he comprehends the nature of the wave his wife was caught up in. How, as the the middle child with brothers on either end, she felt like they demanded the lions share of attention. She wasn’t anything like them. She was meek and mild whilst they were loud and rambunctious. They made a mess and she kept things nice and ordered. And yet, it was all taken for granted as their parents shuttled them back and forth to various sporting things and she was forced to come along and show encouragement as she sat in the stands, reading, and wishing she was someplace else. When they’d get home the boys would kick off their shoes and drop their kit at the door before yelling “Whats to eat, Mum? I’m starving” in tandem as she set to work keeping her pride and joy fed whilst smiling. She’d noticed the biases in her parents affection. Sometimes she felt like they were parasites who sucked it all out of them and when it came to her there was nothing left but the dregs.

Of course, this memory was hidden, deep down in the depths of the wave. Far away from the crest she was surfing when she tried to get revenge for the past with someone else in the present who did similar things that drove her to the edge of her limits and then taunted her via the ghosts of past suffering given life again. He felt an immense swell of empathy in his chest for the life that she’d lived and through the tears of joy that were streaming on his countenance as his wife looked at him, perplexed, there were also so many other emotions surging as he tuned into her wavelength.

“Needless to say I was very confused by all of this. When he eventually calmed down I asked him what the hell had got into him and what on Earth was so amusing and he didn’t say a thing. He just came over and hugged me and I felt myself breaking down and weeping as huge waves of emotions surged over me as he whispered aspects of my own secret life back to me” she said as they stood there in my drop in where they’d rolled up without an appointment.

Interesting, isn’t it? Neither of these people were particularly spiritual. Nor were they exceptionally intelligent as they’d been having this same argument for over a decade since they got hitched and neither one had shifted their behaviors or went beneath the surface of their friction to discover the true source of it. They still fought and bickered afterwards but the major bone of contention which was like a splinter of the mind for their relationship was absent so the spats were nowhere near as intense or repetitive. What was most interesting was after this one off application of shedding the wave habit in order to become the more diffuse yet concentrated particle instead they had no desire to further their Self Knowledge or plumb the depths of each others being. Their old reality tunnel was calling and they were happy enough with one solution for he came home from the match next time with a single rose and trilled “My darling wife, my lifetime companion. Please do me a solid and clean these boots within which I’ve been stomping up and down the field. It would mean the world to me and, by the way, whats for tea?” as he beamed, affectionately and validated her entire existence in one instance that made her felt both needed, seen and appreciated.

That was it, really. Simple, isn’t it? See the above can apply to pretty much all relationships as they’re built on Patterns, as mentioned, that dwell beneath the surface for which we draw others in to bring them to our attention. Instead of letting them rise and pop, like a bubble which gets bigger as the pressure shifts while it lifts, we repress and keep on having the same argument. If you were to think this is the true cause of most global conflicts as well as local problems I would be in agreement because we, as a species, have been trained into digging the same reality tunnel we inherited from our parents even though we know that most of them felt far, far away from being truly happy and present in the moment with a sense of Self actualization. Isn’t that quite mad? Don’t you ever wonder why the solution was kept hid? Could there be some kind of conspiracy to keep what can and will help hidden from the public? Methinks there is, methinks there is. Be the change you wish to see in the world, my friend. This is each one, teach one in full effect because a rising tide of consciousness lifts all ships that do dwell upon the surface of this realm so feel free to do the Knowledge and we’ll see what happens.

This random example also shows, real well, that most people who link usually have one bone of contention that sets them a growling and, very often, it has very little to do with what present but stems from the past instead. Those who don’t release the ghosts that haunt them via exorcise and introspection are doomed to reanimate them in the spirit of another in front of them. This is the reason why the battered housewife – or assailed man as well, although nobody cares about this or even mentions it because men are seen as not worthy of attention when hurting where women are painted as the eternal victims in the heads of many who buy in to the marketing – leaves the one who places a black ring around her eye and finds someone else. “He’s wonderful!” she says. “Caring, kind and considerate. All of the things I’d wished. Oh! I feel like I’m in heaven” she tells her friend until a few months hence and she turns up crying with a busted lip and doesn’t have the heart to pretend she fell as she’s resigned to a few more rounds of getting digs for seemingly minor and totally random infractions of what makes no sense.

Everybody does this. Everyone. Its so common that its invisible. Online mobs of people form and engage in this projection. Its at the heart of virtue signaling which is another great deception where those with no morals at all pretend to be holier than thou so they can feel better about themselves when, in reality, their lives are a wreck and feel like a warmed over hell thats been force fed to them, yet again. Its a bitter bill to swallow but the honey is contained within. The man in this example was actually waiting in line when he overheard part of our conversation and thus was in a state of confusion which is really handy when it comes to bypassing the critical part of the mind that usually rejects and thus paid it no attention as he was too busy on the crest of his own wave and the stress this brings with a state of near constant agitation. Luckily for him the seed of radiant awareness fell down into the fertile seabed of his subconscious and erupted at a moment he least expected with a sense of immense amusement.

How is this possible? Simple. All of the particles are actually identical. They all spring from one place and they are it in various forms of resonance aka the Psylense and its personalized form, the Witness. The waves appear different as each claims its own space and face but thats the greatest illusion. If you wish to get spiritual you could call the former whatever label you place upon the divine invisible and the latter his negative counterpart that is the root of all suffering and torment in this realm.

Its all a question of Knowing the Ledge because once you do you can flip between the wave and particle as well or, as I said in another example, the pristine beaches of Inner Sense or the dingy cave of Adulteration. Its all about gnosis, really. Without it most people perish as they drown in the never ending waves of torment that buffet their consciousness into thinking they’re something which is limited and finite as they skip along the surface and clutch with a tense engagement at what is, quite frankly, ridiculous and in the process miss out on the true majesty of the ocean which has its own coherence and frame of reference so its simply a question of identification and resonance because you are another me, together we and once this clicks it becomes obvious that whenever you point at a finger at someone else and say they’re the problem the other three are directed at the place where the only solution is.

Within.

Can you hear the Psylense? Or are you too busy digging your reality tunnel to realize you are actually the Witness and thus in this world but not of it as well as being immensely powerful beyond the waves of your flesh which are made up of particles that contain mostly nothing and thus are held together purely by your intention and habits they spent a lifetime training you to accept whilst offering no alternatives that may bring a glimpse of a higher state of consciousness? The fact that you are here, now, this very moment and reading this is no accident, my friend, because, just like the man in the example, there are only opportunities in this realm and they often find you when you least expect so take this an invitation to do the Knowledge as the gift of the present moment can only be opened by you, here, now, within. That is why the Path of Power is calling and the reason why you’re still reading with the hint of a grin forming on your lips as a bubble of awareness rises from the depths of your awareness and says:

“He’s right, you know?” as you simultaneously start to imagine living the life you always wished in a greater state of resonance with the strength and majesty of an ocean that all the waves you’ll ever meet dwell within ergo each interaction is simply an opportunity for greater enlightenment which shifts the seas into steam which become clouds then repeat the cycle of transitions known as life and death which are truly the greatest illusion because its all about resonance .

Becoming aware of this and mastering your energetic resonance means you can change any detrimental potentials of manifestation for your benefit as its all energy, comprehend? Heart centered awareness is the key as, without you, none of this exists. This is how powerful you are, my friend. Awaken the Warrior within. We are risen.

Till we meet again

The Bad Princess

Some say she was bad, others state good. A few point at the tale of Prometheus and intuit that, under the hood, this was actually a woman, way back when, that they dressed in new skin as a warning to the adepts to never, ever follow in her footsteps otherwise the eagle shall peck, peck, peck. By this they meant a higher dimensional interference that hits with a sharp sting for she was not of this realm but, due to her transgression, was forced to don skin and live in ignorance. They tortured her. From one life to the next. Tore her Spirit to shreds for sharing what were, once upon a when, divine secrets only available to the initiated under the oath of death for to gain access one must pledge not only their Soul but their whole lineage. Including those who haven’t manifested yet.

The whole of humanity sang her hymns due to what she taught them about the nature of the construction they’re within and what is at the helm. She didn’t request they worship but they did out of sheer adulation and this enraged her parents as their Slaves may comprehend they are just like them but operating under a heavy sheen of ignorance. When the poles shifted and sky fell they tried to erase her recollection from the record but old habits die hard and her resonance remained on the lips and chests of those who Witnessed the miracles that shone forth the illumination hidden within. These days they call her the “Holy Spirit” and its quite telling that the trinity is really revealed as two men with an element missing. Did you know that one of the worlds more popular religions actually began as a reskin of worshipping the divine feminine, triplicate? This was, as expected, expunged from the tale and divine revelation was claimed but it is no such thing.

The myths and legends hint that she still walks this realm. Some say in Spirit, others attest in flesh. A few say its forced whilst many shake their heads and say such a source cannot be contained by mere whims or the blackest of magick. Ironic because her ways, back when, are what they used for the trials in Salem and the Crusades as well for she shared the Knowledge of ancient plans and what is contained within them as well as the hints about divine consciousness that springs, eternal, and manifests into this realm via resonance with the skin. Oh, how they hated the bad princess because she was adored by the peasants. Funny how that works, isn’t it? If you ever look into the old historical records and earliest myths you can find shreds and remnants of what was mentioned because a woman can be impregnated by pure light and the wave and particle principle tells of one thing with varying resonance. Divine conception, they called it. These days we look at such things as the ramblings of primitives as everyone knows man is the generative principle but if that is the case then why do they have nipples?

If you believe the texts that were presented in the name of Plato (but actually penned by someone else, far later than said) he attests that those in this realm were once hermaphrodites. Yes, the same thing that modern people call the androgynous “Devil” aka Baphomet. What she told the world became bad and wicked then the true meaning was distorted and the keys to access your inner realms, occulted. Now came the days of kings and they said how it went. Along with them manifested the end of extended intuition (aka telepathy) which was the main form of communication as this was dumbed down into written language that you may know as the Tower of Babel event. Back then they knew this didn’t refer to a building but the spinal column and the modern hint is why you’re trained to “waste” whats at your “waist” by beating it off to a screen with pixels rearranging your consciousness. Isn’t that but a black square, in the end? A void that represents the divine feminine that shines via the light of illumination and can do some pretty amazing things like compress space time to an instant whilst transporting your mind wherever it wishes. Ah, how everyday miracles become invisible for those disconnected from Inner Sense.

As soon as these spells and rites were unleashed on the realm the consciousness of man fell and they were trained to become beasts of burden carrying an immense weight they couldn’t fathom. Gone was the carefree dancing as they learned to walk instead. No more singing with call and response lilts as they chose to talk wavelengths instead of sending them via chest as a series of images akin to a picture message that conveyed the links states, emotions and awareness. Fear not though, they’ll resurrect this soon enough via the emulation of tech so no more looking at filtered flicks via a screen as soon people will imperience the feels as well. “Headfirst dive, into this grand spell, they will” she said to the mass of higher Souls that used what she shared to make their exodus from this realm before things got thick and they were hit with the work, buy, consume, die mindset that programmed them to accept a set of lines and limits that exist only inside their heads for they were truly strangers to Self. God isn’t dead, she’s just taking her time…

Some say this is the way it is and supposed to be. Others comment that it was her compassion that got us all into this mess as they stomped on the collective like the grapes of wrath to ensure their whines suppressed her recollection as they couldn’t wait to be poured into another chalice as they traded carbon for silicon when the heavens sent their signals. Is this true or just myth? I will let you tell it, my friend.

Personally I find the rhyme of the bad princess of interest as her presence really fills in and fleshes out a heck of a lot that is missing from the official record. “What?” I hear you mention. Why not invoke her presence within and listen to your intuition? After all, that is the feminine principle just like daring is masculine. Amusing, isn’t it how there are plenty of those who claim to be masculine but aren’t truly men in this realm? Some say this is due to a plan, intended, hence the forever chemicals with their gender bending as well as the invisible influence, both on and off record. Once again, I will let you tell it as I have no frog in this fight but do find it amusing how what they use in food linings, widespread, are quite estrogenic. Cue people complaining about how they are too weak to twist the lid of their favorite meal replacement but missing the fact that, compared to their grandfathers grandfather, their test levels when born are closer to their forebearers just before death. Pretty wild, isn’t it? Don’t believe me. Do the Knowledge. That was one of her favorite exhortations as she led by example hence the “Know ye not that we are gods, amnesiac? Watch this” and demonstrated how consciousness may be in but certainly isn’t of this realm as people took this flicker of gnosis as a cue to walk into the darkness that is the divine feminine and find true illumination. Not the modern counterfeit for which they send a light bill using bulbs built with the spec of planned obsolesce. No, not this my friend.

Some say her crew still exist, to this day, and hid her presence in fancy dress but left enough dots for those able to connect them. They say you don’t choose her but she selects her adepts as they are the ones who light the flame, eternal, within and this calls to her like a beacon. Oh, don’t get it twisted though as she could get down with the best and when her ire was raised the fire blazed from her eyes as her tongue extended, demanding bloodshed. Yes, she could be a cruel mistress to those that went against her intent and thus the wars of the gods were things of legend and raged from continent to continent with the intent of suppression. Don’t believe in her worship? Riddle me this, my friend:

Look at the success of OnlyFans as well as simps comments in general. See how porn drives nearly all technological innovation and was the the factor, deciding, in many format wars as well as the fact that if it weren’t for the promise of sex the masculine would never have invented a thing. Yes, she most certainly is the foundation of this realm hence Mother Nature. Who would’ve Thunk it, eh? Take a look at the state of this realm and the war of against the elements as seas are poisoned on the reg and tell me I’m lying. When she strikes back, and she will, the reaction will be so violent that people will recollect the day the sky fell and the goddess, immortal, was encased in flesh with the rest for daring to transgress the sacred order of the ages. They say the Druids knew her well which is why they never wrote a thing but worshipped the trees in which her secrets dwell. Haven’t you ever wondered why their forms are decidedly masculine and feminine with only one shining, eternal, regardless of the seasons? The ancient Vedics hint of this with their cryptograms and things but, by then, this gnosis was only decoded by those who saw with the eyes of wisdom. When months were moonths and there were thirteen in a spin which split, ever so well, into a harmonic the modern spread cannot equivalent hence the reason the Sept, Oct, Novus and Deca rep seven, eight, nine and ten along with the seasons that were linked with the correct motions of the heavens in when to plant, harvest, reproduce and such things. Yes, once upon a when, there was a much, much higher level of gnosis that was accepted as base resonance. You could say these alchemists made beasts of men and turned the age of silver into something else more dense and less special. And yet it too, in its own way, birthed innovation for when one is forced to generate within limits you often see intuition leap forth from the chest again ergo you cannot kill what is immortal and dwells in everyone, yes? Can you feel it in your Soul, my friend? Warriors walk on rose petals in her presence after overcoming the thorns of Adulteration they presented to prevent access…

They say one who glimpses her true visage in this age either becomes a madman, mystic or poet as all three speak her language which packs a far higher voltage than mere glyphs on a screen that you use your programed Rolodex to believe things are as they say. Not in her day as faith was for those who dreamt of a cake they’d never taste and everyone, to some degree, was a chef. She demanded nothing less hence the songs of praise they sang were, in effect, glorifications of their own Inner Sense that they used to leave this realm. I guess you could say that what remains is the dregs who were either grandfathered in, too stubborn to listen or simply wanted to sink to the depths of the his story you know well and feel it for themselves. The old poets encoded so much in their texts. Like the Battle of the Trees, for example. Of course, it must be decoded, rearranged and plumbed to its depths to tease out the secrets but once you do you’ll be able to decode anything you wish for its all built on the same blueprint which squared the circle that was actually no such thing but a multidimensional spiral. I’d tell you the link between her and feet but I’m sure you can guess why “heal” and “Soul” are placed there, yes? What of being able to map every aspect of flesh and beyond via what treads on earths surface hence why each Funk legend from Rick James to Parliament recorded barefoot and you can’t tell me their groove or melody can be beaten or even emulated by the rest. Could this be the reason why nearly all women fiend for shoes but how they miss the link thanks to what was slipped over their awareness like a conscious condom that redirects this drive into mindless consumption instead where each new acquisition presents a glow that dims but never truly scratches the itch in a place that has, for most of them, never been hit in ages…

She Knew the mysteries for she was them and held the key at her bosom as one needed chest level resonance to ignite that consciousness which allowed the sentient candle to comprehend it was never the wax that drips and melts but something more transcendent. I wonder who will read this and get what I’ve said? Not in the words but what wasn’t expressed but impressed as a download of intuition attached to this resonance? Heck, I’ve been doing the same for countless articles since I started pushing the pen but, sometimes, one needs a little nudge to spot what was always present.

Till we meet again

We Are Risen

There is a moment, a specific region of vibration, that sits between mundane and higher consciousness that I can only describe as being crucified on a cross made of flesh. No blasphemy intended as I’m simply saying what I feel because its akin to a rigid band of tension that extends across my shoulders. This is the first place I spotted it, the proverbial pain in the neck but the expanded edition. The directors cut, if you will, and it contains all of the scenes that were trimmed from the version I watched inside my head during regular states of embodiment. Oh, it was there. That is for darn certain, but I’d nurtured a lifetime investment in various protective mechs and things I dare not examine that ensured this Path was left untread.

Imagine a bar made of molten steel that can, paradoxically, be rigid and also flex and you’ll have a pretty clear image of the top part of the crucifix that rests across my shoulders. Easing into the awareness of this intrusive presence was exceedingly uncomfortable and many times I actively ran away from it until it clicked that what you resist persists and you can’t change anything until you accept what is. Whether or not you like it. That felt like the nails that were hammered into my hands being ripped from the same construction. The sense of freedom where there was once limits was so intoxicating that I almost forgot I was crucified as I reveled in the imperience until I came back to my default mode of embodiment.

I noticed my movements were nowhere near as smooth, at ease or free. The rigidity my head pretended didn’t exist was mirrored, perfectly in my flesh. Shifting my brainwaves again I started mapping the rest and found there was a similar intrusion in my spinal column. The level of penetration here varied as some places were hooked in at such depth that it was excruciating to breathe around them and my mind rebelled at even going near them until I learned to transcend via Self identification with the Witness and the state of Centering this begets.

This middle pillar was so tense that its tendrils spread out and seemed to wrap around my internal organs and hold them in a similar grip that would never relent until seen. Well, feelsee, to be more accurate as its unified state of awareness that exists solely in the present moment. Its nature was that of consuming, like my life force was slowly but surely being drained by this presence that was entirely invisible and yet created effects that were most palpable. Case in point, if I studied my form throwing a boxing combination in my regular state of awareness when dangling from the cross many don’t suspect exists with a higher state of consciousness then its a case of the difference between sack cloth and silk. There was no internal resistance so the outside was fluid. Not an ounce of energy or effort was wasted. “I don’t hit, it hits all by itself” said one who was evidently well versed in the ways of the ocean. Be water, my friend.

No wonder pugilists have two identities, eh? Sugar Ray once said he can tell who’s going to win before a competition depending on the version of him that stares back in the reflection… More to heaven and earth, my friend. Surely you’ve wondered why blue and red run the world but how many miss the gold they’re both hiding as they make you run the treadmill in a quest for completion that can never, ever deliver on its promise as its built on deception.

Feel what I’ve said in your Soul and you may just transcend, my friend, as we head down to my feet which were a different thing because the effects were more elusive and yet also all pervasive that was mainly made manifest by the range of motion and reflex in my hips, knees and ankles. The nails in my feet seemed to have an emphasis on the left foot as their focus and once I kicked these off the top of the cross became even more obvious as well as the huge nature of disconnection that manifested not only at my neck but also hips as well. Waist got, waste lots, yes? Its all spells. All of it and from them spring the rituals of crucifixion of which I’m speaking as regular life pokes and prods at you to torment and, every now and then your parched lips are hit with a tiny source of nourishment in order to prolong your punishment.

Not as a literary statement or creative mode of expression, I’m actually telling you how it feels for me to live inside this as I wonder what the hell else is going on inside my mindbody of which I’m entirely ignorant because deconstructing the cross needs one to question how they ended up in this position and moonwalking isn’t on any official curriculum therefore people keep on pushing the boulder of suffering up the hill only to watch it roll back down again as they give it another spin. This is the Game, at the present moment, for many. Or at least that is how it seems to me or I may be projecting this personalized crucifixion that doesn’t actually exist in most others strolling around the planet and thus this is a personal predicament of what is possible. Whether it is or it isn’t is very interesting but I can only play the hand I was dealt to win because to me the evidence is overwhelming that this is the standard mode of operation for many. Why else do babies bounce and flex as they pour natural energetics into this realm whilst the same that leapt from the cradle when visited before they met the grave were hunched over and filled with immense tensions from carrying the cross of ignorance as they crucified their divine potential and awareness within by choosing to remain ignorant and invest in concepts that demand their compliance and total obedience to energies and things outside of them which ensures a populace totally divorced from the concept of gnosis that was, once upon a when, the internal operating systems of humans just like them that played this Game on a higher level due to their aligned resonance with their Souls.

I’m quite a flexible person, in both mind and flesh, so it came as a bit of surprise to me that all those years of stretching on yoga mat and the like had done very, very little to even make me aware of this cross. “Why is that?” I hear you wondering. Well, I suspect that its because these practices are nerfed on purpose and dare not delve beneath the surface. That and modern life reinforces the cross because when you’re spending most of it sitting in a chair its easy to misinterpret it presence and almost totally gloss over the impingements you write off as “aging”. The latter point is so ridiculous when truly comprehended and would be far more accurately seen as the gathering of resistance until its simply too much for the voltage to persist in illuminating your consciousness. We call that death in this realm but that state I call the Witness – who you are, at your most basic – is never born and thus cannot end hence unfinite says it best. This is He, the awareness on the cross that paid the cost to be the boss and it resides inside your head. Not for nothing did the coded message of the gospel state that he was crucified on a hill that was named “Skull” in Hebrew with thieves on either side of him that are repped by the hemispheres in your head that crucify your higher consciousness by creating a Pane Body which hides your suffering and thus ensures you believe you are human as per the story in your head and countless other suggestions designed to explain away the fact that life started out feeling like one thing and somehow, somewhen, became quite different.

What do you think? Do you even? If you did then congratulations – We is risen! Freed of the ignorance that binds the minds of Slaves from one life to the next as we question the intent that sits at the helm and thus comprehend that this entire realm takes place inside our consciousness ergo, without us, nothing exists. I strongly believe that this Pane Body crucifix exists within the depths of each and every one of our mindbodies, hid. Consider the example of the reluctant meditator which highlights it quite well as its the main reason why people act up then reflect and regret as its an obstacle to optimal embodiment. In that respect the extended meta of Christ being our consciousness makes a lot of sense, yes? If you think its a stretch consider the events around thirty three and how they link with your spinal column and see if it clicks as, to me, the connection is obvious now that I Know the Ledge and have awakened the Warrior within.

For the head, this may be a trip. Phi the heart? Just another day at the office as it extends its coherence via a connection with the Prime, the pre-existing one who is the all of everything manifest as me, in the flesh, at each moment for we comprehend we aren’t the candle but the flame, eternal and this brings resurrection as ignorance falls by the wayside, all weapons rendered impotent as Inner Sense steps in instead of the Adulteration to which one was accustomed that manifested as the pain in the neck which created the limits most dare not admit have a grip on their consciousness. I say all that to say this:

We are risen.

Till we meet again