willhelp.me

Life, my friend, has trained you since incep to blend in with the crowd and not raise your head above the parapet in case it gets popped off by the one sniping. This is the reason why so many people are truly miserable but won’t admit it as a) they lack the drive for introspection and b) they are scared of the big questions. Me? I don’t have that problem. The thing is going against the grain can be exhausting, especially as we’re coming up to the shift of an age as we enter a new stage of the Game we’re playing using our Souls as credits and its in times like this that we spot those who etch their name in the historical record because, eventually, when the crowd catches up to the maverick they reflect:

“He’s right, you know?”.

Tesla was a great example of this and I know these days everyone knows his rep but I remember, back when, as I came across this genius who’d been scrubbed from the record and started reading up on him when no one around could offer a satisfactory def of what electricity actually is. Same with atoms, really, but thats another topic. In my mind I was like “What the F? Why didn’t they just listen to what he said and cut a cheque to let him imperiment?“. Yeah, I was young and naive at the time because I believed that everyone craved progress like I did. It would soon click that things are drip fed to the masses who sit on their collective asses, accepting a predictable narrative. As this quote attests there are other forces at the helm that only a few bump up against:

Isn’t it strange we live in times where art is a lie that tells the truth and yet so few see what is there to view, directly in front of them, as they don’t comprehend that “life” itself is a stage managed performance. Frogs in the kitchen, meet your chef. Unlike the flick Tesla died broke and some say, broken, talking to a white pigeon he said shot laser beams out of its eyes to announce its coming death. If that sounds a bit strange I’d like you to consider another unappreciated genius that Witnessed a similar thing:

PKD literally wrote the book on a whole load of futuristic glimpses Hollywood happily streamed to your TV set using the old school tech of VHS as he penned everything from Blade Runner to Total Recall and Minority Report as well as countless others we could mention that I merciless devoured from the fiction section. What is interesting is the man who munched amphetamines like Skittles had a similar laser beam thing in which he was recovering from a tooth operation and in immense pain when a young girl bought his pills and the fish round her neck sent a coherent wave of light into his head that caused him to remember what he’d been made to forget:

The future.

Consider he was pushing the pen in the Sixties and Seventies and then look at the world to which we’re headed and tell me those aren’t the words of a prophet that told the truth as fiction? And yet people still thought he was gone in the head. Much like Van Gogh in that respect who, I previously mentioned, saw the background radiation as the waves he painted that the rest would only discover long after his death using tech.

The courage to stand alone is something that looks great in retrospect for others to ooh and ahh at via distance but can you imagine how it must’ve felt to live it and have your peers class you as insane, strange or simply deranged as they couldn’t comprehend the resonance you were decoding? What if they, in their own way, had transcended the Game that holds billions of Souls in its grip, slipped off the psychosocial treadmill and wandered into on a side quest from which they reported their findings? Doesn’t the fact that this is even possible sound wildly exciting and a challenge worth accepting? Most would move their lips but few would actually be willing to put the work in. I’d be willing to bet that it was the formative imperience of reading about these titans in their own ways that validated my free reign on imaginary things as the Game of Souls hypothesis had a very early genesis as it seemed almost inevitable to my developing senses that graphics would soon tick to a point where life itself was replicated and this brings the question:

“What if it already happened and we’re within it?“.

Granted, this concept didn’t come to me from the abyss but a common thread from the old heads that were functionally illiterate upon coming to the West in search of the land that was promised after giving up the earth they tilled as humble farmers and such things as they often said that life is a four day funfair in which all of our tickets are different length due to the time we stepped in and out. It was a great way to explain the meaning of death to a curious jit and, to them, it was a conceptual framework they’re familiar with as everyone back home takes reincarnation as a fact and there are plenty of tales that proved this to them that would take way too much time to explain. Discovering PKD really made me grin as I thought “Yes, finally! Someone who gets it” and then watched the world unfold, just as he’d predicted. Teslas fate convinced me the Game is rigged and those at the helm don’t want true progress but, much like school, insist the best schlep at the pace of the pleb instead of letting them run free and flip the script which then started making so much sense as to why I refused to bow to any authority outside of Self because I Knew that I was correct and there was something very, very wrong with this realm. Even as time progressed and folks thought I was an eloquent schizophrenic who was fascinated with pixels presented as the real thing I refused to relent because sometimes (less than one out of ten) would nod their head and say:

“Yes, I comprehend. Have you ever wondered this at length” as they laced me with some Game as part of the each one, teach one flex.

What if these geniuses from back when were on their own personal trip that was far off the beaten track and offered immense hints about this Game we’re all playing using our Souls as credits and the intent at the helm? Methinks it is and after my brush with death this was no longer a guess as I’d tasted the cake that was promised and it really was quite delicious to, once again, be pure consciousness. Do you know what anamnesis means? Its a loss of forgetfulness aka overriding the baby brain and its mindwipe effect upon which you etched the trials and tribulations of this life sentence then point at them and say:

“They are me. I am that!” as you grin like a cat that got the cream. I detailed, elsewhen, a run in with a cartoon which said a nonsense word to rhythm and as I watched the tube of my broken down TV in our living room I felt a sensation sear within that was quite close to what PKD said. Decades later I’d recollect the life it mentioned as I was a sacred prostitute in a time ancient and what a tale that is where they used sex linked to spirit to sell the divine feminine in order to keep the shekels rolling in as the goddess met a death and an angry white man in a cloud, yelling, became the defacto image of a god for the people tuned in to the regularly broadcast signal. If you could, would you like to recollect your past lives? Think about this for a while and then see if you hear this on FM because I’d like you to imagine a bookshelf of your old incarnations. Each volume, which may be slim or thick, is packed from end to end with the life you just lived. You may have been a butcher, a baker or a candlestick maker as well as a thug, a saint or a promising Soul dumped in an early grave who swore vengeance and came back to this realm with a mission etched in his chest that he placed above all else.

How different would your life be with this gnosis? This deep, felt sense that can’t be denied as you Know, with a capital K, that its true said as it swims with a familiar newness into your consciousness which was well adjusted to a life in the Valley of the Plebs. These type of things are quite common with those of a mystic bent as well as children who have often said they recollect their other parents and then went on to furnish details that were beyond them. Let me lace you with an example:

The year was Nineteen Eighty Three. Suresh Varma was a well respected businessman making his way home after a hard days night of working like a dog. He pulled in and hit the horn to let his family know the sketch and how he was back in this bish. Instead of his wife and kids rushing to greet him he met a couple of assailants who put two in his head and left him for dead. The end.

Or was it?

A kid is born to some poor parents in a dusty village some distance. His parents name him Toran but everyone called him Titu Singh. A couple of years in to this life sentence he started complaining, loud, to anyone who will listen:

“This isn’t my house. You aren’t my parents. My name isn’t Titu but Suresh. I have a wife and kids. I must see them, this instant” he insisted.

Tell me, my friend, what would you do in this situation? Write it off as a childs vivid imagination or actually pay attention to what was said and investigate the process? The boy continues and mocks his parents for their poor lifestyle and torn threads:

“I am rich, powerful and successful. I have more money than I can spend. How can you stand to live in this mess?”.

They thought he’d get over it but, two years later, he insisted his father take him to Agra which is where Suresh lived. “Maybe one day” he said, even though he had no intent of taking the trip. As luck would have it, however, he did head that way but didn’t mention it to the kid as he was busy with other things. Upon discovering this the boy was enraged and smashed what little they possessed in a display of violence. His elder brother attempted to reason with him and actually sat down and listened as he told him he sold radios and electronics, the location and the rest. Noting this he set off on the trek and found the place, exactly as his younger sibling had said. Inside there was a widow, working, and after some small talk he found she’d had a husband called Suresh who, a few years ago, was shot dead.

She could not believe what she was hearing and after reflecting on this she went to the village he said he’d left. The moment she pulled in Titu came running and yelled:

“Where the hell is my Fiat? Why are you driving this tiny thing?”.

Once again, entirely accurate, as this is the whip he pushed the night he met his death. They sat and talked, he asked about his kids and how life was and the rest of these things. Can you imagine this happening? Does this sound like fiction? Something fake from a land, far distant? Well, it isn’t. Here is Titu aka Suresh:

Pretty amazing, yes? Well, this kid went back to his home village and, being a smooth criminal, told his wife where he’d hid some bills and when they went to dig the gold was buried exactly where he’d said. The character traits from one life to the next were near identical as Suresh was known to be violent and gave not a single F on how he buttered his bread – straight or underworld – hence why his life ended like it did. Run it back and recollect that the kid smashed up his parents apartment and shattered what little they possessed at his new father daring to take the trip to his home village without bringing him and draw your own conclusions as we take it to another level:

Can you imagine coming back from the dead to get the one who bought your life to an end as you stand, as a child, in court as witness to such things? He told the judge how he was shot in the right side of his head and how it was someone he knew well. Adding into this was the fact he sported a birthmark, in this incarnation, exactly where the bullet went in to bring his last life to an end. Truth is stranger than fiction, yes? Have you ever wondered why this wasn’t broadcast from end to end and why you never heard of this until you read this text? That, my friend, is due to the hidden hand aka the Slave/Masters doing their thing with a bit of divided conquering mixed in with bread and circuses as the West thinks reincarnation is ridiculous whereas the East provides ample evidence for those willing to check and Know the Ledge.

The court accepted the evidence and clinked his killers because he said he died, came back again and wanted vengeance for what they did. Like all good plots, however, there was a twist. Titu was born a year before Suresh met his end. Make that make sense. Well, here’s what I think:

After getting capped Suresh couldn’t believe he was dead as he had a lot to live and thus refused to relent his grip on this realm. Rolling about for a bit wondering why no one would talk to him he came across the kid and stepped in. The rest played out as he said because the Soul wasn’t sent back for recycling and thus the imprints and recollections were still fresh and thus he took over a role by way of resonance because the brain doesn’t create consciousness, it conducts it, as this case proves well. He overlaid the boys spirit and used this vehicle made of flesh in order to interact with this realm and have his vengeance. All of this is entirely coherent with the Game of Souls perspective which says just this hence the Earthday Suit perspective plus I’d also had previous conversations with one who worked on Hollywood back sets and termed them “hat racks” who were null and void before acting and something stepped in to deliver a performance that made your hair stand on end.

Like I said, real life is stranger than any fiction but most are so well adjusted to such immense sickness that they dare not question that voice in their head they Thunk is them whilst missing the link that they must be what listens and this opens up another tin of worms because one can’t help but wondering why schizos don’t fall for optical illusions and such things but, anyway, thats a real life tale of reincarnation for you to think about at length because, to me, these types of things are most interesting as I recall a few bits and pieces of old spins hence the get free or thrive trying mindset because if you live, die and come back again with a mindwipe thrown in then what is said of the intent at the helm of this Game we all play using our Souls as credits? All of those books sit upon a shelf in your library of Self and the current incarnation you’re living is based on chapters and verses that were lifted, wholesale, from previous trips that are then sliced back together into a new narrative hence you’ve never met a stranger as I’m quite certain we reincarnate in groups and pass off old credits and debts along with various other things as it makes a whole load of sense as to why my life is how it is and why I’ve said, my friend, that a fool sees enemies where a Warrior meets teachers instead.

Till we meet again

Take the image I’ve provided, draw it out and get some inks. Red for major pains that come and go quite frequent. Orange for nagging ones that are constant or whatever you wish – after all it is your flesh so illustrate how you wish but I request you do this before reading the consuming the rest of this dish made up of practical metaphysics with a hint of higher consciousness.

I’d be willing to bet that the areas most tense, nine times out of ten, are the neck, lower back and hips. Do you Know why that is? Say hello to your subconscious. Lets take a glimpse at the art of reality creation, the Mind Made Prison and the state I call Adulteration that holds most of the planet in its grip:

When you were born none of these states were present. We all, each and every one, step into this realm as the picture perfect embodiment of radiance I call Inner Sense. Its the most beautiful thing that should be protected and nourished but instead its trampled on, real quick, as your parents rushed to make you a version of them. Even though they’re miserable and dare not admit it. After this the System that built them piles in and by the time most are twenty six they are all but dead in terms of spirit and yet they’re lumbering on the treadmill with the rest of the plebs seeking pleasure where they can get and as many distractions as they can handle. All the while they avoid the hard questions like why that glow dimmed, why the world is how it is and the deeper meaning of things. Such is the life, unexamined, my friend. For me that was never an option because I am wildly curious and like pushing buttons to see what kicks. That and the first, last and only true freedom in this realm comes from within. I mean, if what is in your head worked real well then your life would reflect and it’d feel perfect. Well, is it?

Try answering that again after you’ve declared war on your (false) self and its myriad of coping mechs aka doing the Knowledge. Now, these pains you’ve outlined in ink are actually suppressed emotions linked to past events. This is why most of them are filling the back segments. Actually, the body is quite poetic and speaks in a tone most intense for those capable of listening and decoding its signals. For the rest we have plenty of drugs, drinks and distractions. I’m not on no holier than thou flex because I too enjoy indulging but, once upon a when, I sat down after a hard nights grafting and fired up my jerry rigged Netflix equivalent with a case of beers and intent to chill. Then, as now, the choice was immense and as I was picking through the list of what I wanted to Witness I reached down to my left and found the case staring back, empty. “What the heck?” said I as I’d just got comfortable and hadn’t even started yet. I’d sipped all the brews and then it hit me like a ton of bricks:

“I drink to escape boredom and now I’m still that but mildly intoxicated as well”.

I dimmed the lights, flicked the switch and sat there in quiet contemplation. I started listening more to my flesh and not the avoidance impulses that came to my head and made me act like this. Needless to say my sipping dipped, dramatically, as I found something far more interesting and thats when I drew the glyph that you too have just penned. I started sitting and getting comfortable with the stress I carried in my flesh. Treating it like a scared child was something that came, intuitive, and whilst I hadn’t even attempted to sketch or step on the Path of Power yet there were certain inklings, twinkling, in the depths of my awareness that were soon to provide a hint of all the details I’d missed. We’ll return to this in a minute but it goes a little something like this:

We are designed to unfold, to dance, sing and be creative. When the environment is hostile we turn in and, after a while, the scales do tip and you are what I’d call Adulterated. In this state man is numbed from within and, quite literally a shadow of his Self. It is very, very seductive as undoing the programming means calling into question past events and a lot that most would rather not admit. Let me give you an example:

A child is born, all is swell. He develops as intended and then, after crying on the pavement, his father shakes him and says two words that dictate the rest of his life sentence. From here on out the bedrock is laid for an inauthentic existence which turns life into a sentence where one foot is placed in front of the next until he meekly inherits the earth, promised, as its poured over his coffin and he is lowered in. Obviously there are more steps as each stress, the times you wanted to but didn’t yell and countless painful events that are struck from the record of conscious recollection must be stored some place else, yes? Well, they are. From beneath the neck the subconscious reigns supreme and in order to keep this hid your brain segments its presentation and stops decoding billions of bits of information and accepts around six to ten (at best) that it strings into a narrative which is then stealthily assisted by the voice in your head that most Thunk is them. As time does its thing the burden becomes immense as each of these Pixems (called as they contain pin points of information encoded as light and resonance) attract more like it to themselves.

This is why the stressed parent yells then later regrets as they try to make it up to the one they damaged because they click they over reacted as they handled not what was in front of them but were pushed from the rear by the immense weight they’re shouldering. This is what lies at the heart of all conflict – whether global or personal – hence why one should look within and comprehend that they are the problem and the situation is simply an artful deception or reflection of their inner realms. I mean, haven’t you ever noticed how so many of your arguments are simple retreads? What of the girl that comes from ex to next and finds herself replaying the same events but with a different playa stuck in? If, on the flip, you start wrestling with your ignorance and exorcise these demons from within you discover a level of freedom you never expected and, to be frank, most are not capable of handling this resonance as the thought alone scares them. Not them in terms of the Self. That Knows the sketch, real well, and can’t wait for you to awaken from the trance you were placed in. No, its the (false) self with the voice in the head that directs which quivers at the thought of your emancipation as it signals death for them.

In many respects you are not a person but a people as there are different versions at the helm that sign their own cheques and leave you to pick up the bill. Ask the man who blew up a relationship because he thought his girl was cheating and then regrets creating the exact situation he envisioned when she hadn’t done a thing but he was quite certain his sketch told him what kicks. Same with the woman to whom no man fits the bill and ends up surrounded by cats and reeking of bitterness at being left on the shelf when her friends with less are happy with what they get live their own form of bliss. This, as you can guess, simply adds to the frustration and billions live and die in its grip as people perish due to a lack of Knowledge.

Now, these aches and pains, I’ve noticed, are often quite symbolic and our language also attest ranging from calling so and so a pain in the neck or yelling at someone else to get off their back as well as having the weight of the world on their shoulders and countless other things ranging from the butterfly effect in the abdomen which houses what I call the Lower Kingdom from which springs intuition. Up above this in the mid we have the heart that is your direct line to higher consciousness and its within the walls built around it that keep most chests limited we find the inner child, hid, scared and alone. Read my free eBook for a more detailed trip as the level of somatic intelligence you possess in terms of organs and how they have their own wisdom is truly mindblowing if you are willing to become an emotional alchemist as all of this pain is truly a gift if you can be present in the moment and unwrap the tension. Why don’t you try this:

Stand up with two feet on deck. Allow your Self to relax but remain erect and then start softly bouncing. Create different points of focus. One moment you can lock in on your ankles and make these the central point of attention then knees, hips, shoulders etc. Basically we are realigning our vibration and if you do this every day for three months starting off with around nine minutes and working your way up in intervals till you can get to forty five in a stretch something really interesting happens. Try it. See what kicks. Most will attest that after their first foray into this they are met with an immense resistance to try it again even though the level of effort it takes is minimal and can be handled by most walking this realm. Why is that? Thats the (false) self protecting its investment in your ignorance and thus one must declare war on such things as this callous of consciousness hides what you’re truly seeking. Think of it like a huge glacier and the introduction of vibration creates a change on a fundamental level as sheets of ice start melting. Occasionally you may recollect an odd event from back when or find tears streaming for no reason. Others feel the urge to scream and yell. Do it. Full belt. Vent the kettle and relieve the tension.

After three months when asked to fill the chart in again their colors were way different and most were much happier, more content and generally far less reactive than they’d been before this trek into their consciousness. Did you hear what I said? The mind you possess actually holds you in its grip and the version of you you are at the moment is simply an option. There are plenty of other skills and potentials you suppressed due to the urge to fit in and because we live in times of near universal ignorance rare is the one who comes into his element. This sword too is double edged as your nearest and dearest will often resist the shift so tell them not a thing and let the results speak for themselves when they notice your refreshed presence and upgraded energetics.

A guy came to see me, back when, as he was going in for some cartilage operation. In his head he’d sketched a whole tale filled with that and this about the myth of aging, pain, erosion and the rest. It was backed up with high tech x-rays, medical examinations and the wonderful promise of surgical intervention that would solve all of his ills. I asked him to get the other side checked. He looked confused and said:

“But why? That ain’t the problem and its totally perfect? I told you, its due to age and erosion. Thats why I need these meds and operation”.

In the end he made the request to his doc that was equally perplexed but what happened next flipped his lid as the other was in worse shape than what presented as the sketch. “What the F?” he said as he relayed said events as he now possessed a lot more questions that needed answering. I asked him, on a whim, about previous events and the impressions linked to one parent and was met by a blank stare as he said:

“Nope, nothing like that. My folks were amazing“.

And yet, after examination, he discovered how he’d wanted to do this but his Dad said “No, end it” and forced him to pick another direction against his will. That, after decades on the planet, was what now manifested as this intense pain he almost went under the knife to handle.

Once you have felt it for Self things are never the same again as one wants to know who kept it hid, why and for what ends? What else? To keep the plebs in check as they run the treadmill and buy all types of pills and potions that never truly fix a thing as they only address the surface. This is how a small group of people can covertly manipulate an entire planet. It just so happens that the spells of English are the worst weapons one can imagine and thus, if mono-lingual, its really quite hard to tell how much you’re disconnected as that tongue was built to speak behind stiff upper lips that unleashed all types of wickedness…

For some this will be a Neo in the Matrix moment as they’ve met their Pane Body, first hand and in the flesh. Others will shake their heads and class it as a load of BS but, when challenged, will admit they didn’t even try bouncing as they were defeated from within before they made an attempt. Another treat you can trick is standing erect and perfectly still for ten minutes using only as enough bodily tension as needed to remain vertical. Just let gravity do its thing. Don’t resist, melt instead. As you do this close your eyes and pay heed within. Notice your breath. Where does it usually start and end? Does your belly swell in four directions as you drink the abundant Ether, ever present, or do you merely sip and die of thirst instead as you dim your potential? Do your clavicles move? How are your shoulders held? What about your hips and neck? Is your butt sticking out or pulled in? Why do you hold so much tension around your abdomen? Is it because you want to look thin or could it be something else? After a while you may start to imagine a golden waterfall of light just above your head that pours luminance within and spot where it sticks and where the flow is correct. At around month six you may have sensed that there is way more internal freedom and you’re feeling quite fit as you’ve faced and deflated the resistance you previously carried around within. What you don’t know you didn’t know strikes again!

Sitting at a chair with your face bent in to a screen is about the worst you can get in terms of respiration and circulation but we all do it which signals the true nature of this immense disconnection that I waxed poetic on in this bit about a girl who took a trip to a different time on this planet and met other incarnations and how they dealt with the deal of wearing flesh because time, to us, is like water to a fish and if someone dumped a whole load of hallucinogens into it the only way you’d tell is if you were moved from your element into a stream, fresh. Then the difference would be evident and you too would scream from the hills that the fix was in and we’re being fed upon by predators of consciousness that may be invisible but their effects are felt, everywhen.

This is just a basic introduction to a concept that has immense depth and you’ve seen, first hand, the power of standing still and simple motion when it comes to doing the Knowledge. If you wish to extend your foray into unchartered realms you can try changing how you breathe. For example, in for four, hold seven, exhale for eight via pursed lips. Watch how your mind shifts. Better yet try the Two X where, as the name suggests, the out doubles the sip and that creates a chilling effect far better than any drink as they both work on your CNS. This is what I noticed as the next time I sat to sip I paid heed to my inner realms and what kicks after that liquor was in my system and the first thing that clicked was there was a noticeable reduction in tension which set me off on a quest to find out why this is and if I can get the benefits without ingesting a blend that really isn’t the best thing to pass over ones lips.

Not saying you need to become a Mormon or anything but I’m quietly confident that he who implements said changes, does the imperiments and starts upping their Game will find the flames of Inner Sense start glowing once again as the ember, long dimmed, is finally in ascent and that, my friend, is why I ask if you’d rather be rich or fearless as the question isn’t a trick but highlights, real well, how most will pick the worst option they Thunk is best due to their current level of impoverishment. Do the Knowledge.

Till we meet again

One of the things that kept me sane in the Game is I Know how I feel. Now, that capital K means a lot in this lane as it states we’re live and direct, no filtration or hateration needed. Occasionally there may be some holleration but thats just part of the deal in this danceree where we wear the flesh to interact with Three D.

It wasn’t always like this. Oh no. See, once upon a when me and my coping mechs were best friends. The best you could get. So close that I thought I was them. Listen to the true king of comedy speak on it:

Now, I’ve never smoked no rocks but you could take that addiction and replace it with anything else and you’ll nod your head, yes? Isn’t it a strange thing? That we need an external kick to feel straight within? Really peel that onion and see what sits in the mid because there is another aspect to all of this. Life is exceedingly multifaceted and presents immense depth to one who does the Knowledge as each answer simply begets a better question which in turn ups your resonance and creates a finer pic of the whole “walking around on a planet, wearing flesh” thing aka increasing your resolution.

Did you spot the common link?

Its all about feelings.

All of it. From the time you clock in till you get bailed from this life sentence its all about energy in motion aka emotions. Have you ever seen a kid that is learning how walk and take his first steps? I want you to imagine the exact same seed but with two different version of said parent. He falls to the ground and an intense sense of confusion hits him as his nervous system starts tingling with all types of new things that he simply didn’t expect. The overwhelm is intense and, right on cue, he looks over to his mother for a clue on how to process what presents because she is his everything and they exist in a state of resonance that comes from sharing flesh with a developing shell of consciousness. Now, version one looks at him with a grin and says:

“Whoopsie! Lets get up and try again” and she means it because she could tell its no big thing as her boy simply slipped on the carpet and she knows he can handle it. The other version, however, comes rushing in to grab him and starts slathering him with affection and checking he isn’t hurt as the kid picks up on her franticness and starts bawling due to the stress.

There it is. The damage is already done, the place is set and script almost etched. From a tiny event that he probably won’t ever recollect but was sketched into his nervous system as the blueprint of awareness when it comes to handling new signals that may or may not lead to overwhelm. Long term readers will have clicked that I’m speaking about Patterns and how they, not laws or what we’d like to think, really run this bish because they are wired in at a lower level and the mind is akin to Velcro for pain and Teflon for grins. Its just the way we’re made. Don’t blame me for speaking the real as thats just how it is. Now, there are plenty of vested interests that would like to hide and deny this as they’ll happily sell you a truck load of BS at immense profits along with questionable side effects and all types of problems that never truly address the root levels of consciousness. The reason they don’t what you to Know thy Self is because then you’d be in a position to kick the impostor at the helm that pretends in your head to be the you you accept as you dance to his tune that is played, Twenty Four/Seven, via that voice in your head. Thats a deeper topic but a huge part of the Game as its all mental, mayne. Insane crazy, driving Miss Daisy if we’re being most accurate but I’m trying a new thing which is focus without tangents so lets see how that rips:

Now, these two versions of sperm and egg remixed will go on to have totally different lives based on this non event due to something I call the Relative Scale of Impact. Remember how summers as a jit seemed totally endless and now one decade blends into the next, real quick? Its just like this because when things are new and fresh the neural imprints they etch are quite intense hence why the priests said they’ll turn boys to men by what they did to them. Thats another aspect of the mind control because it can be as subtle as what was said or as vile as what they did. Most are in the mid as they are fractured via hearing two words that folded them in and from then on it was Adulteration, full tilt, as they too do the same to their kids and that, my friend, is absolutely outsane when you stop and think.

As these square watermelons grow to be well adjusted to a world profoundly sick they very rarely stop to question the nature of the psychosocial treadmill they run with the rest. Nor do they notice the reality tunnel they’re digging and a million and one other things because they’ve been tricked, conned, hoodwinked and bamboozled into accepting the (false) self at the helm is them and thus they do what it says. Know how it manipulates them? Via feelings. What else? Well, that and a constant stream of suggestions via a narrative in their heads but its all based on energetics and they, like a bass line, are felt as its the swell that moves the rest as life, at its essence, is a musical performance. By the way, do you recollect how it felt when Prince dropped a gem on em, back when, with When Doves Cry as that aspect was missing? It immediately stood out on the radio sets and drew you into the lyrics due to the absence of what was expected and this, my friend, is why I say the Game may take no prisoners but has plenty of hostages that are barely living, scared to death and mostly going through the motions with no emotions due to the fact that they’ve been expertly hollowed out from within over the decades and dare not look within for fear of confirming this which makes the mind of his Victim the best tool in the iron fist (draped in velvet) of the Oppressor of this dimension.

We all try and fill this void within. Thing is with some of us its so immense and so intense that no amount of drugs, drinks and distractions can make a dent. On the flip there are those of a more mystic bent that underwent extreme types of initiation (not all of them planned or welcome) and came up with a whole different version of what it means to be human. Comprehend that nothing that happens in this realm is by accident and it is, quite literally, written in the stars if you can decode the script as the motions in the heavens are reflected on the stage where we play the Game by inserting our Souls as credits. Ah well, there goes the no tangent attempt. It appears that linear thought is not my flex as I tend to parallel process which is akin to gear shifts for your consciousness and this is one of the reasons I’m hell bent on spreading the heaven sent message to awaken the Warrior within as you haven’t got a clue of what you’re missing nor what you’re truly capable beyond the dimmed glow of Adulteration for which they send you a light bill as you run the treadmill with the rest of the plebs.

The Path of the righteous man, however, is something else. A totally different flex in the literal and metaphysical sense because its akin to snowman recollecting that he isn’t water frozen solid as its lowest state of vibration but made of something else entirely that is more subtle and delicate and thus one cannot fear death once you comprehend thats the main illusion that begets so much confusion in this realm. See what I meant by everything is planned? There are no accidents, only opportunities, my friend, and right now you, reading this, have the chance to think different and actually implement a flip because when you change what you control what you can influence does shift and that paves the way to some interesting imperiences. I mean, try this:

Take your all time favorite coping mech and stop doing it. This instant. Pick a specific period, seventy two hours works well. Just jack it in, grab a pad and pen then start noting down your feelings, observations, changes in awareness, time dilation effects, internal stress and levels of tolerance along with anything else that floats in. After you’ve got familiar with this you can’t help but notice a ghost in the shell type of effect where there is a version of you at the helm that needs and wants certain things along with another bit that you’ve just got familiar with. I call it the Witness. Its constant from one life to the next, awake or in bed and it can only ever exist and dwell in the present moment. Welcome to the golden circle, my friend. It really is quite amazing how they can make a genuine hell seem like a personal heaven when you’re surrounded by coping mechs to ignore the devil and his details that were pumped into your head by a System that gives not one single solitary F about your well being in any sense as they exist purely to pimp your suffering in ways ever increasingly scandalous which is why in the land of the deaf the man who starts to sing may seem ridiculous but if gets a band up in this bish and the bass hits then its Game over for the con as their limbs start moving:

By the way, did you notice the live performance of Doves I linked elsewhen actually featured what they dropped for the retail version? Bonus points if you can tell which other track of his featured a similar arrangement. Would it seem patently ridiculous if I told you that, back when, your ancestors didn’t walk and talk. They sung and danced.

If you can accept this truth for what it is the world as it stands make perfect sense because its been a wild ride to make beasts out of men and its why so many worship celebs whilst never, ever exploring their own talents and potential. Really ponder this and depth and you’ll note that every single child, anywhen, spontaneously sings and dances as proof positive of what I said before that “Sit still! Look ahead! Do well on the test or your parents will stress and you won’t get a good job” BS is pumped into their heads. Legislated feelings, my friend. Legislated feelings. How wild is this? I spoke on agent provocateurs in the student riots, back when, as they sent in the Feds to rile up the broke kids who followed their example and then started to smash something as a vent.

This, I suspect, is how and why the net has been turned into a weapon as there are various angles being played in the same instance because whilst the youth of today may really be quite dim in comparison to what we were, back when, there are also far more of them dancing and singing – even if its only lip sync for hits. Its a start though, yes? Its also the reason why I think modern music is the lowest its ever been as the barrier to entry is nil and thats exactly how much money they spend on artist development as people take what they can get to flap their gums with a quick hit like aural chewing gum versus a Seventies record which was served like a fresh dish cooked with the best ingredients. Horses for courses, I guess. That and the simulation has but a limited amount of processing that is endlessly recycled which is why we’re going to see birth rates tank, as I predicted and then – in Twenty One Hundred – there will be a population explosion thats much more beautiful and, who knows, maybe the language will shift to incorporate a rhythmical lilt as people two step around this realm, yet again.

Everything is alive, my friend. Everything. Even down to the mineral kingdom and I know that may seem like a stretch but there is a reason why they say a diamond is a girls best friend and then, eight out of ten, find their passions chill as that rock was slipped on a finger which, according to TCM, regulates the fire within. Food for thought, yes? Along with the fact that the whole thing is a scheme in which people are sold a dream about a token of affection that actually brings the opposite along with the fact that its a price fixed thing built upon the poor wretch suffering to make the man in the middle rich as he fleeces a brainwashed idiot who invests in the tale he sells about three months salary being the minimum as a token of your affection. I tells ya, there is one born every second and this realm takes them hostage, real quick, with a whole load of bunkum, spread thick, that no one stops to check as they’re too busy running the treadmill trying to impress those as broke (and broken) as themselves.

Legislated feelings tell you at what you can grin, what is socially acceptable and the rest. Its an insanely insidious trick to prevent anyone from calling the Game for what it is as they’ve trained you to go against whats within and comes naturally correct. They then have the gall to stand there and attest:

“Well, who you gonna believe? Me or your lying eyes?” if you confront with the evidence. Its gaslighting, par excellence. That is the mindset in charge of this realm and its why life appears heaven sent but truly feels like hell if you take away that coping mech and start scribbling because the next step, my friend, is to reintroduce the element and notice the shift. Better yet, I’d be willing to bet that if you simply went through the routine of anticipation and release you’d notice the next trick of Pavlovian conditioning as your heart rate and the rest starts to chill due getting what you expect and that is really, really interesting in a world filled with notifications and such things, yes?

Who knows, maybe it isn’t. To me it is. I spot these types of things and, back when I had my drop in, I’d set all types of Souls whatever challenges I’d imagine based on their energetics and we’d tweak the variables as they explored the uncharted realms of their consciousness where they’d been trained to run from A to B, on the reg, with a little C and D thrown in but the rest all missing. Off limits, non prescription or something never mentioned but that doesn’t mean it ain’t possible as the imperiment attests because once you’ve started to do this with a couple or ten things you have wildly upped your res and if you sprinkle some Dice Life in the mix you’ll see why people were literally lining up in the rain to get another fix as the one thing the Prince does well is know how to flip the script.

Who knows? Maybe I’m just like my father – too bold. My mother was never satisfied and yet they left me standing in a world so cold that I all I have to show is the glow of my Soul that I pour into these texts with the intent that it connects with the collective unconscious which is as mercilessly pimped as the individual expression which currently thinks its the flesh, voice in your head and rest of the mess when, in reality, its so much more subtle, strong and beautiful that once you Know thine Self you cannot be anything else but true and wouldn’t trade places with anyone in the Who’s Who because you simply don’t give a hoot about a figment of your imagination that manifests as them as you are quite certain and confident you are the Witness that makes all manifest in this realm as it plays out inside your consciousness.

Till we meet again