willhelp.me

Can you imagine a revolver that is equipped with bullets of intellect? It is so crisp, so perfect, so divinely attuned in resonance that it works as fast as lighting with naught but the effort of thought behind it. Back when we stepped in, strapped, with a fully loaded clip that was further harmonized and refined by the Souls who became our parents. In that respect not much has shifted, except the symbol of the astrological age because the thing with the Game is that as much as it changes it tends to remain the same. These days most get a rusty six shooter and the bullets within pick from this list of seven:

Lust.
Greed.
Envy.
Pride.
Gluttony.
Wrath.
Sloth.

Sounds familiar, yes? Now, know this, I’m not biting the Bible. You can consider this a remix like the countless hits that were built off the of riff the Amen Break bought to this realm. You may note that the weapon of your mind only has six slots ergo one will be left off the list. Peruse it at length, look within and do the Knowledge and it just may click that one sits, easily, at the top of the list as you identify its presence and the comfort it brings as your trigger finger doth itch in moments of stress, quiet reflec or any other time you wish to get biz and let rip with its familiar resonance. There will also be, conversely, one you have never, ever felt. Try it for your Self. Prove me incorrect. I, personally, can attest that I am a total stranger to the concept of Envy as it literally makes zero sense.

For me to hate on another man for doing it big is simply ridiculous because I’d rather learn and develop the skills it takes another to win and implement them myself. Even if that isn’t an option (if I don’t know the person or they may detest me and not wish to reveal their secret) I still keep it moving because to hate would be a waste of my precious energetics. Not so with Lust though… Hoo wee! That tops the list for me and I could think of a billion and one ways to rationalize it from saying that I’m simply worshipping at the altar of beauty in my appreciation of the sacred feminine but the truth of the matter is is the intent with which its driven – self gratification. Draw up the list. Do some checks and balances. In some areas you may find some interesting contradictions. For example, I have an immense Greed for helping. I get such a rush from it as, back when I had my practice, people would drop in feeling stressed about X,Y and Z then jet, uber fresh, with a new mindset that was A, B, C instead. To me it was like dealing with a puzzle as people often had the correct pieces but the order was a mess or they were looking in the wrong direction as well as so many other variables. I know what you’re saying “How can that be bad?“. Well, its the underlying motivation, what we’re escaping and secondary pay offs that provide a hint. For example, in my case, the motivation was an elaborate coping mech that projected fragments of my own inner turmoil onto the next who, as expected, manifested then presented with much simpler problems for me to handle. All of the while I was trying to escape my inner childs intense pain and suffering so you can imagine how he felt seeing everyone else get the help he was requesting. The pay off was that I got to feel special with a “I know you better than you know your Self” mindset but, in reality, all of these things were super basic because as I progressed in this lane I gained all of the tools and strength needed to finally face my greatest challenge and, once dealt with, willhelpme did kick as a refined expression in a higher octave with far more consciousness behind it. This is what I mean by upping your res and being totally honest with Self otherwise you’ll get the Hells Angels effect where you try and sell an image you don’t live and, worst of all, don’t feel genuine. Thats a masked existence and its exceedingly common and the main reason people are miserable… The mask always slips though. Just listen to this wretch who kept a hundred Ms on deck:

Charities are thieves, designed to fleece. Don’t get taken in by the narrative they spin as pimps, politicians and preachers are all playing the same Game. Getting back on thread you may have already guessed that Pride was also hidden in the mix of what I did as A) due to the thrill it brings and B) to say “You ain’t up on this” which demonstrates, real well, how there is an interplay of these threads to form a narrative but it wasn’t done to stunt, mainly, but inspire discussion as I’ve always had strong opinions, loosely held ergo the Knowledge was freely kicked with the “Each one, teach one” mindset that was naturally equipped because when you repeat what you’ve read (with your own twist and introspection) your retention rate is immense as you’re creating fresh neural circuits which means your Rolodex spins free versus rote repetition for the test which is forgotten the moment you’ve vomited what they said to get the grade needed to impress your parents and gain their affection.

An odd mindset for a college dropout with no credentials who mainly only went for a year to check out the gel, make connects and generate ends as everyones a client when a boss playa steps in. Wrath did flow in my veins for some, at the time, unknown reason as I had not a chip but a whole bag of potatoes balanced, quite well, on each shoulder as I stepped around the realm looking for problems. The above combination filled me with immense Pride that I rationalized as truth said because:

“Its not a lie. I really am that special”.

I shake my head as I recollect the sheer arrogance of lyrics that spilled and (false) self that said them. All to hide the wounds of the hurt child within who he’d actively reject and indulge, instead, in coping mechs. Lust is a huge part of this because you can be hitting skins or busting into a napkin as you take in pornographic visions on your television and sit with erection in grip. Its the intent that king, get it? Gluttony reared its head as “Nothing exceeds like excess!” was the song I’d sing as I took a rip, had a sip and generally did the best of the worst with those acclimatized to a ghetto environment as we all aimed to drown our pain and pseudo celebrate at the little gains we’d make as we played the Game to win… At one stage, me – who was usually quite slim – was big boneded in excess as I simply couldn’t stop consuming. I later clicked this was another coping mech that came up to tamp down the feelings of traumatic discontent that puberty did bring and that spurred the Lusting. Can you see how its all interlinked and how there is immense wisdom in what was writ? Are you making the list or is my leading by example akin to singing for the deaf? Push the pen, look within. If you’re drawing a blank or a new to introspecting sit with a friend who knows you well and play the brutally honest Game in which they tell it how it is based on the list and lace you with some examples. If they can’t do this they aren’t authentic and, guess what, that makes you fake as well. Here’s where we get into the octaves:

I came to note that whilst these were detrimental actions there was, often, a higher resonance. The example of sharing my Greed for helping anyone who’d ask was an example and this created a counterbalance that allowed me to recollect that there were, once upon a when, further chambers to access. For example, the opposite of Lust is Compassion. You’ll note the last bit of that spell contains an aspect of what made it but expressed with greater resonance as I constantly strove to uplift many in my surroundings with a diffused affection that felt boundless with no post nut clarity needed as it was far more spiritual in its ascent. My NDE and the events surrounding tore my ego to shreds ergo humility was forced upon my awareness like an abuse of the (false) self that forced me to introspect and second guess how the hell I ended up in this mess. That, I tell thee, was quite liberating really as it felt like a straight line in Tetris hit and melted huge blocks of ignorance. Not long after this I started fasting at extreme lengths after my first trip into the depths of feeling a stomach, rumbling, and just learning to sit with it and let what I’d previously suppressed come racing to the surface. One of the most amazing side effects of this is that your dreams gain IMAX vision as they’re super crisp and come correct as your subconscious and regular mind do connect when your body is cleansing. Throw in some saunas, filtered water and a hefty dose of Niacin and take it to a whole nother level. Being a Glutton I did this for hours at a stretch as I tend to overdo anything (“Nothing exceeds like excess!”, recollect?”) until I clicked what I was doing and learned the subtle art of Wu Wei aka effortless effort. That was an immense lesson as well as when one lessens the effort things tend to flow, perfect. Its like Bruce said:

Along the way I started to gain immense insight into my Wrath which manifested as anger and an altogether violent mindset. Heck, that would kick in as I’m talking as I tend to gesticulate to get my point across which I felt was like passion until, one day, I saw a friend drive by who hit the brakes, swung back again and jumped out of the whip and started acting real aggressive to the peeps I was standing, talking. “What up? They’re friends. Do you know them? Whats the problem?”. “Me? I’m cool. I thought you had beef because your face was raging and they looked like they were craving a frisk as you were all up in their grills so I came to help by obliging them on the cobbles, if thats what they wish. You know, some odd evening?” he said, with a grin.

That really made me think because you can never tell how you manifest to another and when one is in their element its as invisible as water to a fish. I asked these dudes later, when we next met, if my friends view was correct and they said:

“Yeah, but thats just how you are, innit?“. When I asked them to expound they added:

“Well, sometimes you share your thoughts like you’re slinging bricks at my dish and whilst it can do my head in there is always something interesting because if anyone is that passionate about it its got to be considered, no offense”. They say we need others to reflect back the face we keep hid but they see really well and this interaction done did this with a quickness. So much so I actually started recording my conversation to see if I could catch my Self in the act of this intellectual violence and that led to an interesting imperiment where I reversed the speech and listened to what was said, backwords. That was super, duper interesting and I may speak of it elsewhen as, just like a wordsearch, the spells work in both directions and this is why you can tell, in an instant, when someone drops a fib as our subconscious is always listening. As I type this, after having laced you with some grist for the mill to get your own wheels turning, we get to the meat and potatoes of the topic:

Once you’ve click, click, clicked these rotations that you’ve cycled through in ignorance for your entire existence you’ll get to the point where you stop fingering the trig and hold back instead. Then you’ll spot the higher octave and once you implement this clip instead you’ll find you keep progressing (aka upping your res) until you return to the One Oh Eight chambers instead. Shimmy, shimmy, ya, shimmy, yam, shimmy, yay – Do you hear what I’m trying to say? By the way, did you know that ODB was a prophetic genius who Knew the Ledge way more than anyone else in his clique and how his presence was fundamental for the Clan bringing the ruckus, back when? I really will have to speak on this because whilst most had him pegged as the clown prince I knew that only a man of supreme intellect could play a buffoon that well as that was his coping mech and way of downplaying his genius whilst flying under the radar and dropping gems as well. If you were to check his clip, standard equip, you’d see Lust topped the bill followed swiftly by Sloth hence the ODB mindset. Just check the notes for the Fantasy session and what kicked:

Envy was also present but you could say that was the spirit of Hip Hop, back when, as it was fiercely competitive hence why his style has no father and thus cannot be imitated but that didn’t stop the sharks from trying to bite his skills and comedic antics that, for him, were totally natural whereas the rest were simply tracing his blueprint for clicks…

With an appetite for destruction that was immense you could tell when he was spinning his favorite hit of Gluttony as there wasn’t a drug, drink or women he met that he didn’t greet with open arms and a grin. In many ways this would be his undoing but, at a higher res, he was fighting all types of demons that manifest in the flesh. Ask George Bush and em… Being the litteriest pick in an elite clique brings a type of Pride as the labels all wanted to sign him which is how RZA gained all that leverage in a deal, unprecedented, and this mindset forced them all to up their skills as they all pushed the pen to impress the Wu Gambino clique. Finally we come to Greed which, in ways most ironic, could be demonstrated by collecting a welfare check with a platinum record but it was really low down on the list. You’ll note that Wrath, for him, did not exist and this made him supremely likable as even those who detested him couldn’t help but crack a grin at his childlike innocence and pure hearted antics. Something so rare and refreshing in the bricks. Like a concrete rose that cracks the pavement and sings, off key, as, to him, the song of life is perfect.

Now that you’ve pushed the pen and I’ve laced you with countless examples to help on your quest to do the Knowledge tell me, my friend, how far beyond the rusty six shooter are you at at the moment because the other chambers are, quite literally, out of this world as they belong to another stage of the Game when they were standard equipment and, in many ways, we’re all seeking this freedom as the code of the Matrix says “Thou shalt Thunk like this” whereas the Warrior raises a digit to these tricks, looks within and elevates his Self. You can consider the bullets as holes in your energetics from which your true potential was leaking but many encode this sensation as a hit that brings a grin when, in reality, it leaves them spent as its simply gratification for the (false) self and the predator of consciousness at the helm. Once the process is inverted and you’re reconnected to Inner Sense no weapons shall prosper, ever again, because the gun is always in your grip and the outer realm is naught but a figment of your imagination ergo you, effortlessly, come correct and dodge bullets like the Matrix as Slaves, plugged in, look and think “What the hell?”.

There’s a method to this madness as reality is the definition of insanity which is just another trick because if sane is a place then those in it come correct. Its the outsane MFs that need their heads checked but they’re too busy trying to protect necks stiff with ignorance as they’re firmly convinced they’re correct as they spin the rusty six like nobodies business and keep the middleman fed, here, in the depths of Hell. The craziest thing is that in the midst of the darkness we all still shine. The problem is that so few of us realize this and fewer still hone these gifts and talents which is really quite sad, isn’t it? After you’ve pushed the pen do the flip and list your seven perfect virtues, talents and skills that take absolutely no effort, and thus, you may not even think they’re special but they are. They are, my friend, and this is how I leapt to the next octave and that process of refinement is fractal and thus constantly refining as once you’ve awakened the Warrior within there is no backsliding to ignorance without a concerted effort and, even then, your Inner Sense will not allow it as the actualization of Self is the most addictive hit that feels like mainlining the secret truth of the universe in one hit as you’re set adrift on the bliss of higher consciousness then look at the rest of the realm, suffering, and think:

“I’ve got to push the pen, get them up on res and in a state of coherence because if one man sees it it could be a delusion but if another takes his own steps on the Path you create by walking and our notes are identical then we may just have cracked the code to the Matrix“.

This is also why I’ve said, back when, that the fix is in and the intent at the helm of this realm is as crooked as it gets because it installs the whims, set the rules in opposition then punishes those who give in and accept their programming with an intricate System of debts and credits designed to keep one plugged in from one ignorant incarnation to the next. Tell me I’m joking or does it match what it says on the tin? The flip is that when one Knows the Ledge and attempts to return to the One Oh Eight chambers instead they unleash a living hell in the flesh designed to bring your life to an end. I mean, really stop and think, who keeps sending the prophets another side kills, dead?

That alone should tell there is more to heaven and earth, my friend. I use movie clips to flip the script as art is a life that tells the truth, comprehend? In that respect this world is a copy of the real thing and its about to sell a duplicate of the fake aka simulacra and simulation and this, once again, brings us back to Jesus who, spot the sync, was played by the same actor, illustrated, as he in the Matrix. Do you see why schizos flip as the fractal of consciousness uncompresses, spins in all directions at the same instant and yet remains totally Centered in Self? Thats the state the mystic clicks and dwells in and, sometimes, shouts it from the hills till they kill him. What did ODB retitle himself after a spot in the bing and mental asylum? “Big Baby Jesus”:

Many missed the Game he laced and what he was truly saying as they were too caught up in the image and antics presented by the press but, to me, ODB was on his way to returning to the One Oh Eight chambers as he was a master of the drunken style of crazy wisdom. The fact we fell so far, down, into the flesh where we only have six left and they’re filled with a pick from seven twisted bullets the System encourages you to indulge in before death hands the bill should be enough to make some, the 8%, do the Knowledge and comprehend that everything is a test and nothing is what it presents in this realm. Whats threedays mathematics then? Let keep it raw with the fact that Venus sits One Oh Eight million KM from the Sun which, itself, is the same digits flexed in the resonance of diameters of it between the Earth and its source of luminance which is identically repped, again, in how many suns fit from it and, on top of this, the moon sits the same deal from us and its radius is, you guessed it, One Oh Eighty Oh miles. Drums please!

Still don’t believe we’re in a simulation or are you starting to click at how improbable it is for all this to kick and you to be here, now, reading this whilst wearing flesh? The Game of Souls has you, my friend. Or, at least, it did till you read what I said, looked within and did the Knowledge as then only one statement presents as the rest of the chambers spin with a fully loaded clip of gnosis:

We are risen.

Till we meet again

Lets pretend you’re the only Soul in this realm. Actually, you don’t really have to imagine that well because its not far from the truth. Have you pondered, at depth, how one man can meet ten and they all draw differing opinions of him? Well, I have. Repeatedly. One of the most interesting conclusions from this imperiment was how it became Self evident that we hate those who display the exact characteristics we cherish as part of our own wavelength. Isn’t that fascinating? I think it is as, once upon a when, a friend noticed someone leaving my premises as he strolled in and said, without a trace of irony presented:

“Why are you speaking to him? He’s nothing but a flash prick who thinks about no one but him“.

The chap in question was what most would term “arrogant” but he, himself, commented:

“I’ve got the skills to back up my flex so its simply the truth said, isn’t it? If they don’t like it, thats their problem as I’m too busy clocking wins”.

Like I said, ironic as the other gent possessed a nigh on identical wavelength. You are welcome to test this. Just think of someone you met and, instantly, detested. For some the beef is eternal. Others become friends when you discover you have so much in common. This is down to what I’ve termed Octaves as we are naught but stories wearing flesh and that, itself, is a hint about this immense Game we play using our Souls as credits as we’re literally poetry in motion who, once upon a when, used to dance and sing before the System did its thing with two decades of legally mandated brainwashing that said “Sit still, look ahead. Do well on the test or your parents will stress” and other such programming.

When COVID kicked can you recollect how you met this wavelength that was saturating the planet with its invisible influence? I do, real well, and spoke about it a bit in this article but lets go in depth:

I rose, stretched, read, pushed then pen and then, around twelve, I clicked that life was simply too quiet around the ends as the usual hustle and bustle was missing. I looked out, beyond the windowsill and was greeted by birds making a din. “Hmm, thats unusual” methinks as I looked around the pavements and saw they were deserted. The shops were closed and there were no vehicles. An immense smile crept across my lips and my brain started processing these events to find a narrative that could fit. I Am Legend popped into my mindset as I said:

“No way! I’m the last man left on the planet? Everyone else is either dead or has vanished. Cool!”.

I leapt down the steps with my anticipation building like a million kids awaiting a billion gifts that jolly old Saint Nick (aka the Devil in a new dress) promised them in exchange for their veneration. Actually, lets expound on this, yes? For a large chunk of my childhood, if not all, I never got those shiny toys and trinkets promised by one who, for some reason, could not manifest via the front entrance. Not to say I was impoverished but you don’t miss what you never get, correct? When I discovered the whole thing and how kids believed in this bit I found it ridiculous and questioned their logic and investment as well as the nature of their parents who sell deceptions to them in exchange for temporary grins. As time progressed I built onto this hypothesis and let me share something that should make you think about the stranger bearing gifts:

Both he and the Devil are linked with the name Saint Nick. People accept this without question but the Warrior prefers depth over surface level ignorance that hides truths, unmentioned. Both can’t use the front door and must gain other access. Both are linked with hooves, cloven. Both promise material riches in exchange for an investment in their presence as one who shares his bounties with them and both live in places intemperate. Sprinkle in the color red, the power of flight, being in many places in one instance and you have to wonder:

If he’s calling you a ho, triplicate, then doesn’t that make him a pimp, par excellence? To me it made perfect sense or are these the coping mechs of a jit that never got any gifts but plenty of ass whuppings for not following the regulations? I’ll let you tell it. Anyway, so I’m barreling down the steps with, what I guess, must be the anticipation of said jits and, with eyes big, I strolled along the pavements taking in the new wavelength. The Earth seemed to agree with me as it felt like it was sighing with relief at the ease of an immense burden that seemed intent on killing it. It wasn’t the night before Christmas but there was not a Soul to be seen in this realm and my grin was threatening to crack my countenance as it spread across my lips. Eventually I found what kicked and this is one the best examples of why I’ve said watching the news is bad for your health as I ignored all that mess, saw through the camera tricks and, a few months hence, noticed people were ambling along the streets with a hollowed out look on their dish that I’d only seen in the Hitler documentaries, mentioned elsewhen. They could not comprehend why I felt so spry and vivid. I spent that time getting into the best shape I’d ever been and felt so amazing, thanks to the isolation, as the beach was all mine as was any other place I’d pick. Sure, a few scowled at me not wearing a mask or following the regs but I did have one interesting conversation on the topic of sanitation with a woman who asked me my secret for shining bright in the darkness:

“You’ve know me for quite a while, yes?”. She nodded her head behind a mask, paper thin, whilst wearing gloves seen in kitchens or theaters or operation as she stood quite a distance. “Well, the secret is based on an old imperiment I did as I clicked that when one gets a cold or sniffles you can always spot it coming via the tingles that manifest, first, in ears or neck, correct?”. She, once again, nodded her assent. “The truth of the matter is that when this kicks I instantly reach for some hydrogen peroxide, three percent, and gargle with it then place a few drops in my ears as well. I strongly suspect thats the main point of entrance for bacteria, viruses and such things. By doing this form of disinfection when the threat is basic I remain in great health”. She took it in and, being of good intelligence, said:

“That makes a load of sense but this is different. Its highly virulent and can kill in an instant. You should be more careful”. I relayed the example of the first atomic bomb testers being handed sunglasses with a cheery “These will protect”. She started laughing. I congratulated as I mentioned that grins boost the immune system whereas stress depresses it. A light bulb hit within and, seeing as I had her ignorance on the ropes, I unleashed a beautiful combination with:

“Thats about as much use as your cheap Chinese mask filled with who knows what chemicals is. Matter of fact, its probably more dangerous as it acts like a dragnet that captures all kinds of bad things and then provides them with a breeding environment right next to where they’d gain access so, if I were tinfoiling, I’d say this whole thing is one percent truth, ninety nine percent fiction and most problems that manifest are people doing it to themselves out of ignorance by following what they said. Not to mention that the constant hand sanitizing and OCD level cleanness prevent the build up of resistance by good bacteria and such things that are needed for your immune system to function well”.

She had a straight line in Tetris moment. Right there, on the pavement. When next we met she was facially naked and feeling safely content and, wouldn’t you know it, since then she has had approximately zero sniffles. Even when colds were raging. Whilst we were intensely different I found a common resonance that spoke to the doubts she had, lingering, but daren’t address as the screen said it was comply or death. Me? I don’t have those problems. Me? I don’t give an F about what any so called authority outside of Self has to say about anything and seeing as I started that trip with a rising wavelength it wasn’t about to relent due to some regulation Nazi attempting to do their bit with the “I’m just following orders” mindset. We all know what you get from doing this, yes? Man, that was an immense tangent so lets get back to the thread instead:

You are the only Soul in this realm. Meaning, all you deal with are figments of your imagination with whom you have various debts and credits from previous incarnations. How can I say this with such brazen confidence? Simple, my friends conspired to kill me dead and, as I’d later recollect, we knew each other, real well, on another spin and the rest of my family were also in the clique with same intent. To them I owe immense thanks because A) they kept my last life on this planet interesting, B) they proved that death is an illusion and C) they gifted me the need to develop such resources that allow me to share thoughts like this on the web. Slave/Masters, I thank thee! This is the Win or Learn mindset in full effect ergo you too can flip the script and pull out any bones of contention that prevent optimal digestion of the banquet life presents but only if you comprehend and reality test what I’ve said. Here is how to do it:

Grab a pad and pen. Note down three you detest and the same you call friends. Check their skills, impressions and what kicks then find the correlate in Self. Most we label best actually possess something we also cherish but, often, haven’t developed within which is what makes their resonance so attractive. Some, if you’re lucky, may bring this out of you. You need to skip past the basics like:

“We went to the same schools as kids and like the same things” rhetoric and truly dig. Like the flashy arrogant kid who hated the same resonance manifest in another playa in this realm as it threatened his sense of individuation. When I pointed this out to him he fairly yelled:

“I’m nothing like him. Nothing. Its like you don’t know who I am or can’t recognize greatness in your presence? He’s a fake, a phony who pretends. I’m the real thing. An original with no duplicate”.

I asked him to take a break from the stims for a month or six then tell me how he felt as I mentioned that his nemesis was also fond of amphetamines as well and he, like him, was a fat kid, back when, before he started lifting, hustling and cracking skulls to make a name for himself on the pavement. The ears of ignorance are stone deaf to whatever the lips of wisdom done said and thus he shook his head then mentioned:

“Nope. Never in a million. Whats that got to do within anything anyway?”.

The more I sat and reflected I realized these two were nigh on identical in so many respects ranging from story to lineage as well as musical tastes and innate gifts to getting paid. Even down to the women they would pick as this was one of their main bones of contention as they’d often hit the same targets. One must recollect that, back when, the only place that played “Urban” music was a dingy spot in the bricks that picked a night, usually dead, to have their club filled to the gills with pavement terrorists who sang, chapter and verse, from the scriptures etched by Saint Makaveli to his congregation of thugs, delinquent. As you can probably guess that meant you ran into the same people, as and when, plus the females were rotated ergo things would be smooth as silk as we all popped drinks and linked till it got to around twelve and you’d hear:

“Hence why I fornicated with your belxved, you obese scoundrel!” come thundering across the PA system and then it was on like Donkey Kong as the monkeys were humbled, real quick, and barrels did tumble whilst the hammer clicked as someone got tapped in the head and leaked their blood onto the pavement. Then on the night went with its regularly scheduled resonance. Ah! Fun times before CCTV and DNA tests, I tell. Clubbing, back when, was like the Wild West as anyone who was around before camera phones and bottle service will attest because everyone was out to F something and if that didn’t kick they’d just F someone else up instead. Either way, they’d find someone to oblige them… Lets pretend we were like Bonobos who settle all of their problems with sex. People would be signing up to go to war with the biggest orgy, imaginable. I wouldn’t mind living in a world like this as those people would certainly get they’re dealing with figments of their imagination as a good orgasm, between Souls of resonance, make this Self evident hence why the ancient Vedics promoted sex as a spiritual aspect for generating gnosis. That was quickly flipped into the white mans “Born in sin” concept as entire generations lived and died thinking a magical man in the clouds was noting each time they’d caress the magic stick and eject a whole load of potential life into a Kleenex thanks to the sexual ministrations of flesh actors on their set. Another crazy tangent so lets rap this up real quick:

What you hate in another is something you, your Self, do as well. Pay heed to this, the dividends can be immense. Whoever makes you mad is your Master in this realm as you’re saying, tacitly, that you cannot control your response in their presence ergo you are a Slave to their resonance. Third, there are no enemies, only teachers, my friend as they shine a bright light on your ignorance which is, usually, delicate. Take a look within. Know the Ledge and see what kicks as you may come out the other end sporting a greater wavelength of resonance as you quell the internal conflict so the external, otherwise eternal, is killed dead and, instead, a sense of solidarity doth present. This is worth keeping in mind if the red heifer loses its head as they erect a new temple after spilling the blood of infidels. Its also worth noting that what the masses hold true, the simulation brings into view so if enough of us think different we can, quite literally, flip the script. But, that isn’t the real point of this level as its all about aggression and dominance hence why pimps, politicians and preachers are the same thing and, in the end, who am I to speak on this being a street educated jit with no credentials to furnish but, then again, maybe thats why I’m perfectly prepped to present another perspect because, like Vincent said:

Too many people live for others expectations and wonder why their lives don’t manifest as they intend. Why? Because the System did a number on their heads and programmed them, real well, to accept bread and circuses instead of the real traction that comes from effort. Don’t you think its strange how we get no true life lessons in the legally mandated camps of concentration where your parents sent your mind, whilst developing, and yet movies are laced with depth that tell it how it truly is? Art is a lie that tells the truth, my friend. Warriors innerstand backwords to see forewards. Thats just how it is when you comprehend you are the only Soul in this realm.

Till we meet again

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