willhelp.me

There is an ancient myth of which you may have read that involves a tower that fell and they called it Babel. After this folks started to babble and the languages were confused which, as you can imagine, was a fertile ground for conflict as those who once connected could start to hate those who spoke something else. Irrespective of whether you believe this sketch or not is irrelevant for we, today, are going to trace a truth out of this myth that has ramifications in the life you live:

Why can’t you speak body language?

Its due to this event, my friend. I am going to go out on a limb here and say something that may appear ridiculous:

I put it to you that the folks, back when, communicated by beaming pictures at each others heads. You know, like a video message on your phone? Except they used carbon based tech instead of a silicon extension. Comprehend that every single thing man invests simply tacks on to what he already doth possess and takes its range beyond its limits but what if that is the hint that we’re a race that fell and, and present, are atrophied in many respects? I’ve spoke on precognitive dreams here and that is a common tell but one that is beyond argument is the sense of one staring as you turn, directly, and look at them. What if I’m correct and this is a vestigial remanent of the same force, mentioned?

Back when, out of boredom, I sat in school and trained my Self to balance my chair on two legs. The teacher was glad of the respite this brings as, for a while, I was quiet and let him mislead the rest without interruption. The level of concentration needed was immense as it took a lot of micro movement and in the moment awareness. At first what was new and strange became familiar instead as my internal bandwidth expanded and I noted more subtle currents. It certainly seemed like there was a gaseous sort of liquid that could also be solid that felt like it shone in the darkness of my limbs. It was this that I was commanding, once I had the gross motor function handled. This bought a revelation in refinement as it felt akin to a round of lead inside a ball that, itself, was of plastic. As you can guess from the image there is an immense difference and getting these two in sync meant that my balance was perfect and then I’d sit there, perched, quietly grinning at my accomplishment. After a while I started noting the rinky dink slink of this subtle aspect of energetics and how it felt like it expanded up my spine and, after a while, I could feel it pooling at my eyelids. If I closed them, them, I’d see dazzling patterns that felt like I was flying and, some nights, I couldn’t sleep because of this light show in my head. Anywhen, being of a mischievous bent I would fill my mind with the singular intent, whilst balancing, for the teacher to drop his chalk, scratch his chin or such type of effect that I would send, via my mind, with the intent to influence him. Over the half the time this kicked and I’d be mucho amused by said events. Oh, let me back it up a bit:

Way before all of this I’d stare at the back of peoples heads when bored, sitting, and note that they always turned to check. I noted that some would look within a few seconds and others needed half a minute. The response rate was predictable and I found that interesting. That, in an amusing fictional twist, is what psychotic homosexual Ron Kray also said in a modern flick called Legend but this was way before all of this and I wasn’t interested in anyones sausage nor was I on schizo meds. Just a bored jit, sitting in class, trying hard to ignore what they attempted to pour inside my head whilst letting my Inner Sense do what it did. The above is just one of the things it directed me to and that is what outlined this hypothesis as I could tell that some people were more sensitive to the resonance, others seemed dense and thick which leads me onto another topic:

Did you ever notice that all the jocks tended to kick balls well but were not going to be splitting any atoms or things of that ilk? The nerds too seemed to be weedy and generally lacking in aggression. I noticed this when class was in and out of session and couldn’t help wondering why man tended to lean in one of these directions and the other was akin to a foreign language. “Interesting” filled my mind as I sketched a Venn Diagram of intersection in my awareness of the specimens that were present in my local camp of concentration. It definitely seemed that some things existed in opposition and how the extreme outliers in each direction found the counter antithetical. “A smart can play dumb but the opposite is impossible” said a philosopher of the pavement when I put my view to him. I sat there, nodding my head at his sage statement as he drained his first drink before the sun was past the yard arm. “Besides” he shared, before taking another belt, “Its not whats in your head but what you do with it that counts, in the end“. Another profound insight. I thanked him and left.

Too many people live and die with their greatness within. Why? Because they let the System define them and tell them what to think and this, in turn, controls how they live? Me? I don’t have that problem. I knew the fix was in the first time I was playing with Stickle Bricks and clicked that me, impoverished, had access to all these free toys, warm milk, a nice blanket for nap time and a story as well. “There must be more to this” I reasoned whilst taking in my environment. Some could call that paranoia. I prefer the term “foreward thinking” as this type of thing is either within or it isn’t. Actually, its standard for all of us but most have it beaten, trained or cajoled out of them. Not so for I, born with less, who was hell bent on keeping what little he did possess ergo:

Why can’t you speak body language?

Not just others, which we term as emotional intelligence, but your own? For example:

Where do you feel, within, when you’re raging and yelling? See, most only notice the kettle whistling as they let of steam but this is a very low res way of living as, underneath this, you have the water, the pressure, the holder, the fire and whats making it boil as well as the whole shebang. Once you come to grips with this its easy to see why I said that whoever makes you mad is your master, correct? After all, its all within. There was a local bruiser that school said was good for nothing and lacking in all intelligence who picked it up, real quick, and was able to turn his previously free flowing anger into a finely honed and tuned weapon he could unleash, as and when. It doesn’t have to be that dramatic but this shows a man of some wisdom as he A) spotted the problem and B) did something about it plus C) was wise enough to inspect concepts that didn’t make sense, off rip, to see what he could get out of it. Net result? Higher res aka doing the Knowledge to gain the strength of speaking body language. Another example was of an addict who couldn’t let the art within find expression unless he was under the influence of heroin. Tracing this back to its incep unleashed a whole torrent of emotion that I spoke of elsewhen but, in a nutshell, it all comes down to how you relate to your energetics.

One of the most interesting things that I came to discover is that, in the end, there is only arousal. I know, that’s mind boggling, isn’t it? It does make perfect sense though because everything is sex but the act itself is pure power and little else once you strip away the window dress. This is truly such a deep topic that its beyond the scope of this journey which is aimed more as an introduction but, as a hint, I’d like you to pay attention the next time you’re sexing and see if you can remain present with your breath and notice how it shifts and then see what I meant as, when it clicks, you’ll wonder how you missed it. Thats body language, my friend. There are many, many ways of talking but loads more for avoiding and pretending to be deaf to the signals, within. Just ask your doc at his practice and he’ll tell that most people just want someone to be nice to them and the pills are a mere side effect that, often, don’t change a thing. True said. If you ever had a honest, genuine convo with one about how many people truly ever get healed or even gain a mere amelioration of symptoms it would be eye opening and if you could, by comparison, look at the datasets of third world countries were said things aren’t an option but they have strong community links you’ll notice an interesting pattern as they did a great study with people who left the village and flipped their lids versus those who stayed and remained same which hints at the power of social connection and how supermarkets, back when, first ripped then stitched this fabric with them, in the mid, extracting the best and now the net is linked in and, soon, it will be silicon in the head. All as intended… If you could speak body language you wouldn’t be pretending on the web that you’re feeling X, Y and Z when your eyes says A, B and C instead.

To awaken the Warrior within one must become emotionally literate in the sense that we Know what we’re feeling in each moment and being able to transmit and translate that via our own imperience. That means not flying off the handle after a day of stress on top of which you kid spilled some ink on the alpaca you’ve been instafacetweeting then feeling guilt and trying attempts at overcompensation as there is a high chance those two words you yelled, out of frustration, have already fractured juniors inner realms, thanks to your ignorance. Not meant to judge, just calling it how it is. If you felt some kind of way then take that as a lesson because he who makes you mad is your master, in the end, and that isn’t me, my friend, for I am my own guide and only discipline. I don’t know how to be responsible for you and don’t wish to accept the challenge. All I can share is whats worked for me and those who attempt to Know the Ledge as they look within and make better decisions. Case in point:

She gets out of her office and notes the tension in her neck, winding, as she goes to collect the kids. Before she does she sits, barefoot, on the grass for a little bit against a tree, just to rest. She feels the release of said events and, with it, the constriction in her chest eases as does sinking sensation in her belly is lifting. Breathing a literal sigh of relief she sets off on the trip and as her bundle of joy comes tumbling into the whip he says that he wants to paint, paint, paint as he’s learned a new trick and he can’t wait to show off his new skill. Being present and cognizant she, on this spin, doesn’t send him someplace else as she’s busy cooking but finds she can not only tolerate but engage his presence as the stress she once felt is now defused before manifesting as another scene of grouching and yelling before, later, repenting and delayed over correcting. Doesn’t that sound like an outsane option? Why is doing the Knowledge not first and foremost impressed into the domes of those who are sent to colleges and kindergartens? Think there could be an intent at the helm that profits from ignorance and needs Souls that are artfully broken to make the wheels spin and tills ring as people run around, stressed, in ignorance? Fingerprints of the hidden hand. They don’t even try and disguise em…

When you can feel your own emotions you tend to develop a sense of empathy for others as well. Call it a side effect. The wise will have clicked why I said what I did about the world, pre Babel, and how that may just be accurate. This increased resonance can feel quite intense as we, are on a whole, strangers to Self as that is how the world is built. But, if everyone around is miserable and drowning in copings mechs what do you really have to lose by doing the Knowledge? Not much, I’d bet. Here is where you’ll come face to faceless with the Opponent that sits at the helm of your consciousness and pretends to be you in this realm. Hoo, thats a doozy, is it, and the trick is so slick that 81% of the plebs would rather die than admit it. Good job you’re capable of awakening the Warrior within as, at nearly two K words, you’d have to be to still be reading as these articles are, in many ways, a test as well as initiation.

Get familiar with your feelings. As you lie in bed, about to rest, place your hands on your chest and abdomen and state your name, softly. See how you sense the responses, within. Give your Self permission to relax and communicate any things of importance you’ve missed using your dreams as a bridge to link the sub and consciousness. This is actually an advanced practiced but its quite effective and most folks can’t wait to try it. Remember to go to kip with a notepad next as well! Next time you’re stressed see if you can spot which parts are tensing and where the current does spin then, using some energy hands of pretend, pull out the stream and reverse it then place it back in your flesh and see what happens to your emotions. Thats another dramatic one you’re welcome to reality test. Speaking to the child within via red and black ink is extremely powerful as is taking an inventory of how they’re feeling. Most common on this list is you’ll note things like “I’m scared” and “I want affection” along with “Why isn’t it safe to be my Self?”. Address these old blockages in the past and watch the present shift for Slaves are bound by time but Warriors are multidimensional in the flesh and this can only be managed by speaking body language to up your res.

Take an inventory of your fears, trace them back to their inception and note how your flesh feels or mind tingles whilst pushing the pen and then sit there with it. Don’t try and change it, shy away or pretend it isn’t happening. Just accept it. Let it melt as you shine your attention. Some report they recollect an odd event they hadn’t thought of for ages, others get a sense to yell (don’t suppress. You’re safe now, let it vent) whilst many just notice they’re no longer as tense and, generally, feel more neutral around said thing. Remember, if you don’t know where you’ve been you’ve got no clue of where you’re heading and once you comprehend this you can shift gears and start hearting instead to actualize your true potent that can only be accessed once you’ve bridged the gap between Inner Sense and Adulteration. This actually leads to the amelioration of the latter. Well, relegation is more accurate as, at the moment, its like you’ve got a faulty GPS in your head that decided, back when, to take over and talk about everything as it sends you where it says and not where you wanted. Heading and hearting, recollect? This is the difference and what you can gain by doing the Knowledge, my friend.

So, like Eskimos have more words for snow than Boston George ever did you should start developing a greater res for your state of emotions and how they’re encoded and manifest. Traffic lights help because then you can be a red level angry or a mere green tint instead. This differentiation is key because it brings the space to say “Eh, this isn’t worth the stress” and as you build this resonance you discover exactly what I meant about you needing to master your energetics as you start creating instead of the reacting you once did. Notice the anagram? Same components, different resonance. It makes all the difference, during, beginning and in the end. Paying heed to how you breathe is a great way of pattern interrupting because you’ll note its hard to yell when you’re taking in and exhaling two per minute. A great way is to link organs and resonance which, whilst an advanced practice, can be used for basics as you pretend to draw in golden light of illumination which condenses at your Lower Kingdom and send out grey smoke instead that exits via your pores and takes with the tension, presented. This activates your whole body awareness and its quite useful in the respect as most bands of tension are localized and yell for attent that makes them seem far more important than they are hence the “I was seeing red and thus lost my head” statement. The golden glow of Inner Sense treats all of this as its extremely beneficial at neutralizing the denseness and when you can start to draw it in with no thinking then you start to notice the canvas of pure consciousness beneath the ink the ego slings and thats true progression as the vicious circle has now became a spiritualized spiral instead. Net result is you gain more freedom, more options and choices as you learn to become the master of your energetics and not a Slave to forces you were, hitherto, ignorant of in complacence.

Above all else, imperiment. Let your imagination rip. Share the techniques with your seeds and ask them to help create variations as well as it builds a far greater relationship and, who knows, you may just learn something.

Till we meet again

Imagine there is a needle, diamond tipped, that moves along a track, pre-etched, much like a record. Now, the most amazing thing about this retrofuture tech is that the angle with which the former coal doth hit induces variances in which the song is sanged can shift up or down an octave. For some it may not be mere pitch but a feeling like someone has taken their bish and smacked it up a lil vicious! Or it could be the flip and the you that couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket now busts a groove with some funky steps and sits totally in the pocket which makes the whole world sit up and take notice. Does this cause anything, long dimmed, to start shining again, my friend? What I’m speaking on is the hypothesis that a different version of you is dreamt into life, every day.

I strongly suspect this is the case. Matter of fact, I’m almost certain that, like Senator Vernon, you could take this to the bank and cash it in so kindly reality test and tell me what kicks. The basic idea is this:

Earth is a place we come to play out various things. Your story follows a script that you animate with your unfinite consciousness which your flesh, at present, is hyper conducting. In between here and your Prime point of origin there is a space ruled, seemingly totally, by the Archons of myth and legend. Now, these we won’t get into for this bit but you can pretend they are like condiments to a chef that, nightly, cooks up a dish using the nocturnal visions in your head that your brain tips, Twenty Percent, to make happen. Here is where it gets interesting. Did you know that each time you recall a memory you’re actually changing what is stored in your long term my-story? That means that reality is plastic and one can, if they wish, exercise the power of imagination to flip the script. Most are totally ignorant of this as two decades of “Sit still, look ahead” left them in debt when it comes to this funky skill. So, the version of you that sleeps and rises in the AM are subtly different in the ways you can imagine with the record meta I said. The song will be the song. It is what it is but it can be remixed with uptempo versions of the same lyrics or even be slowed down a few thousand percent for a more avant garde imperience. Think of those days, back as a jit, which felt endless and compare that with how quick the treadmill doth blip because you’re not doing anything different between Eight to Six. Whoops, I mean Nine to Five as the previous might just kill a bish! So, to recap:

You are in the multiverse of madness and each night your ship of consciousness is rebuilt with new staff and features so it could be that, one day, you have a grouchy Captain so you yell over the smallest thing then, later, ponder why you did this. You go to bed, have a dream in which the symbols shift and suddenly he is switched for someone with a much more philosophical bent so when you see your tire is flat in the AM you decide not to stress but call in work and tell them:

“Yeah, listen – Got something here I need to handle, its quite personal so I can’t speak on it. Hopefully I’ll have it fixed today and will see you on the next”.

As you click without waiting for a response. Why? Because Captain Optimistic says:

“Forget that mess. Your attendance is perfect and seeing as “Ka” means Soul in Egyptian this is mad specific and the symbolism is speaking so lets not move that vehicle, yes? Instead lets go into town for the heck of it and take a look around a museum or something”.

So you do.

And much fun is had.

Then you go to bed and Captain Stress leaps in instead. His crew are hyper active, mad distractive and super anxious. You get out of bed, late, spill a drink and remember you didn’t change that flat as you were too busy gallivanting. You grab a cab, wince at the bill, make it and let loads of apologies start to drip from your lips as your boss says, with no respect:

“So, what was so important and personal that you couldn’t tell and left us hanging, eh?”.

The air is pregnant and your anxiety erupts as you let spill what you did and feel your career in the balance. Later on, ingesting caffeine, you stop and think:

“Why in the hell did I tell him? Its a HR thing and none of his biz”.

Doesn’t matter though, Captain Stress is at the helm and he’ll keep circling this island as well as reminding you of the time you went on a date, perfect, and were trying to impress then said “You too!” as the waitress bought your meal. He says:

“You never heard from her again, you cretin”.

Inside your cubicle where your square watermelon sits you feel more and more anxious as you recollect more of this resonance. You come home, exhausted, look at the flat tire and groan as you get down and fix it. Some space is saved, the next day is paved. You bathe and retire for the night. In bed you see immense technicolor visions in which you imagine the woman you met was actually a raging narcissist who would’ve made your life a living hell and how she bailed because she could tell her lxvebombs weren’t working that well. You also note, with a grin, that the waitress gave not an F as she was barely listening. You rise, smiling, and think:

“Who I am to believe I am so important to someone who never even met? What a doofus!“.

You find a spring in your step as you recollect the old text messages and, truth said, this woman did lay it on super thick but you were totally oblivious, back when. If you hadn’t guessed, Captain Intuition is at the helm and his crew are super slick as they deliver ten times out of ten and have an immense rep for navigating the most treacherous environments. You get into work super quick as traffic just seems to melt and before your boss can say a thing you casually mention:

“The other day when I was off, at the museum, I noticed they had a sign for an new event in which they were detailing the conquests of Napoleon whilst displaying some of his trinkets. Also, whilst I was there, I realized that difficult client that always gives us problems isn’t worth the stress as I computed he generates an excess of revision but with no measurable increase in billing so I’d suggest we bin him but, before this, we could apply the cost/benefit analysis algorithm I’ve been creating across a sample to see what happens next, yes?”.

Cue the disciplinary meeting and dressing down he’d intended melting and you getting a promotion instead. You go home feeling pretty terrific but Captain Anxious and his click can’t wait to put a dent in the plans of mice and men ergo you toss and turn all night with all types of fragments that leave you feeling super stressed and not at all rested. You grumble and rumble as you get up and notice there is a twinge in your neck. Plus your tennis elbow is playing up again and the only racket you’ve handled is the noiZ in your head. You get into the office and the boss nods in acknowledgment and suggests you chair the meeting and show the staff how to think lateral with withered tech. You shrink within, the Captain is roaring with a grin. Over words and concepts you know well you stumble and fall like a blind man convinced of his vision. At one point you note the management shake their heads and you remember that old spelling contest in which the word “restaurant” tripped your legs. You fold in further and further again. The rest of the day doesn’t go well, as expected.

By now I am sure you get my drift, yes? Lets say the above specimen was taking the steps to create the Path by walking and had been, daily, jotting his dreams, body language and various syncs. He discovers that these factors are not at all random and seem to link, in tandem, with the oddest things. For example:

Captain Intuition sailed in when you were on your way home, driving, and you were about to stop to get some shopping when your gut feeling said:

“Forget the usual place, its jam packed in the PM. Lets go over to that farmers market and pay for some pretension instead!”.

So you did. Why? Because it felt correct. Whilst there you did a bit a mild flirting with the girl behind the desk who looked with a wry grin at the goods you were purchasing as they screamed “I am single and spend my whole life in a cubicle“. Feeling smart as a whip you responded with an off the cuff metaphor about how we’re all laying eggs:

“Some are free range and others live and die in the cage“.

You quip as you bop to the exit with a grin and a wink. This is what provided grist for the mill for the takeover as you rest and, hopefully, this outlines the sketch on how to recode your OS because if attention is everything then where, my friend, are you focusing? Start pushing the pen. Note the emotional highs and lows before retiring. Choose which aspects you wish to trim and which could generate a higher resonance as its a most practical way of reality hacking that pays immense dividends hence why I said that imagination is to education what the Prime is to your Opponent in this realm because, to me, its Self evident that a different version of you is dreamt into life, every day and gnosis of this can cause immense shifts in the life you live…

Till we meet again

If you truly want to get to grips with life how it is and see beyond the deception in the mid that is slung by the pimps who play with your awareness as they, endlessly, recycle your Soul as a credit to play the Game that is beyond most folks comprehension then simply repeat this statement next time you’re stressed, feel like no giving an F or facing some type of problem:

“Directed, starring and written by me”.

There, you now have some agency. Put your hands on your chest and say it. Better yet, rub your belly (bare skin) for a moment whilst relaxing and issue the statement whilst paying attention to the sensations that manifest within. Some may get immediate gnosis and insight on what to do next, others need to relax and place less effort in as tension is the opposite of what the light demands to shine in the darkness, dig? I would like you to imagine an immense Noughts and Crosses set but its ThreeD and all levels play out in one instance. The bottom (and most dense) is wearing flesh on the planet. Here it is extremely easy to delude and be fooled into believing things like free will etc etc. Such is life in the land of sentient snowmen who know not thy Self. In the middle we have an interesting realm that is, currently, controlled by your Opponent. You visit this area in dreams, fantasy and, curiously, when watching your TV set. You could call it the land of the black mirror, if you wish as its from hence the rest doth spring. Up, above this, we have a place these fiends can’t access but most certainly covet and its from hence you spring. Never left would be accurate as this arena is where sits the thing people call a Higher Self. It manifests as guidance, intuition, that voice within that speaks without talking (in comparison to the chatterbox who pretends as he is naught but an interloper from the middle realm, as mentioned).

Now, to decode all of this, as and when, whilst clicking that you’re dealing with not actual, living people but figments of your imagination you are projecting (some of whom may be organic portals, intent on deception) is a third class ticket to enlightenment that needs you to shift through as many planes, trains and automobiles as you can handle. Sometimes it may feel like you’re shackled to the devil himself but, others, will have people who seem to wish well yelling “You’re going in the wrong direction” when the truth is something else.

As you can probably guess, we have now ventured into the lands that are populated with the burnt out wrecks known as schizophrenics who, never, placed their hands on their head, chest and abdomen then massaged for a bit whilst stating “Directed, starring and written by me“, as they listened in quiet expectation for what the Psylense said as they transcend the noiZ, within. Once again, the former is from the third level and ye are it, my friend. Just like the latter extends from the black mirror in their grip and, currently, it sits at the helm of the heads of over 81% of the populace who are totally convinced its chatter is organic, natural and as intended as they throughly invest in what it says… See how madness and sanity are interlinked and the only thing that debraids this devious weave is clear intent and a state I call being Centered in Self? The above rubs and statement activate the energy centers I’ve termed the Three Kingdoms and, once it clicks, you’ll comprehend what I mean about amnesiac gods who fell into this realm and are, currently, being fed upon a predator of consciousness.

Such are the perils of awakening and dangers of deprogramming, my friend. If you haven’t guessed, yet, these shady forces are the same one that kills the prophets, dead, after the Prime, the pre-existing one sent them with a message for the rest about how they’re in some type of mess they accept as “being human” when, in reality, its far more insidious. Comprehend, they cannot leave and thus, without us to feed upon, their reign comes to an end hence the Be Kind, Rewind effect I mentioned. Gnosis.

Slave/Masters hate this one weird trick as it contains the seeds for liberation that one must water and tend for it to crack through the concrete pavement of ignorance that they spent decades (and many past incarnations) having you invest in the fable of being human and the rest this brings. Like links of family and kin who, in the end, are merely aspects of Self and thus manifestations of your incoherence and reliance on others, external, to define what is vital, unchanging and thus eternal. That last part can, for many, be a bitter pill whilst, for others (who often felt black sheeped, par excellence) its the honey they’ve been seeking as they shake off the manip, guilt trips and emotional pimping that had them bending over backwards for anothers whims who never truly seemed to give an F about them. They don’t. Never have, never will. This is what I meant by the organic portals and why an old philosopher opined that not all who walk in the flesh are human, back when.

These days you see them as industry captains, people in positions of power and influence. Psychopaths, we call them. They are made broken to conduct a different type of resonance from this plane in the mid that, wouldn’t you know it, powers the military industrial complex and its PR wings of media and entertrainment:

You may suspect I jest but that truly is the lay of the land, as far as I can tell but its worth bearing in mind that I simply type these texts as the journal notes of an eternal work in progress who, daily, Knows the Ledge and thus chips away at his ignorance ergo I am my own guide and only adept so you should not follow me but create your own Path by walking. I’m just detailing what I’ve seen, been and felt along with various observations and ruminations as I kick the ballistics on a range of topics depending on how I feel like pushing the pen. As I said previously, 81% are Slaves from now till the end, one life to the next, mindwiped, reskinned, ready to believe whatever they’re programmed with as the (false) self at the helm tells them what it is and they nod their heads, accept and yell “Death to the infidel!” who dares contradict his script or offer insight into his plight which is built on ignorance of the simple principle that should, more accurately, be viewed as a commandment:

“Directed, starring and written by me“.

Sit erect in a chair with your perineum kissing where its at as it extends in relaxation which allows your hips to become the lotus from which your spine blossoms and lifts. Massage your skull, in both directions, as you repeat the statement and feelsee within to detect the message the Psylense doth bring. Do it again but at chest level and you may wish to add in some herbs and spices by mentioning “I am me (say your name). I am here. I am listening to your unfinite wisdom and its guidance” then sense the shifts. For some this can be quite dramatic as a long dimmed ember, within, starts glowing which can be fanned into a roaring flame of illumination by using this technique, mentioned, with two pens in either fist. Next bring your mitts down to your abdomen aka the Lower Kingdom and get to rubbing and feeling at home in a place most, long ago, vacated. Read this free eBook for a more in depth presentation about ones adventures beneath the neck and why most, to themselves, are an absentee landlord, par excellence who, seemingly, smokes crack rocks of the finest ignorance and thus demands his rent with a ferocity that won’t relent.

“Directed, starring and written by me”.

You could say thats why Dave walked away from the Ms as he could see where it was heading and the price of access for what they were getting was too immense. Its why he speaks in codes and tapdances around the topic but references the Pimp metaphor, real well, as he is there to spoon feed but encourage you to up your res… Back when it was only the jester who could speak the truth, as it is. This is something they’re attempting to curb, real well, hence why most missed the gleaming presence of a giant among men who gave not one single F and thus set a benchmark so immense that the rest are mere amateurs in comparison to his witty perceptions. The others work for the team, the 11%, and thus have pledged their Souls for a sense of false illumination that offers them the very best of this realm, hides their dalliance, encourages the worst in them and thus further closes its grip in a way, most noxious, from one life to the next. There it is. The grand secret many have died to protect and killed countless to prevent leaking. And yet, it was never even hidden as they put it in front of your dish, as and when. By the way, if you ever get invited to a mansion party and they say they wish to do a quick blood test to ensure you can sex without protect I’d advise not to partake as when you dance with the devil he knows all the steps and thus presents the perfect decep to play upon your senses with the Dual Reality Principle in full effect…

“Directed, starring and written by me”.

Why? Because without my spark, none of this exists and that shine, itself, is an aspect of the Prime, the pre-existing one of whom I am the same and identical. You as well. Even if it seems blasphemous. Have you been rubbing your belly, chest and head or are you content being face in the crowd Twelve Thirty Six whilst others have stolen your rightful role and calling in this realm? For some a straight line in Tetris moment just hit as they get why it all feels like a retread and that something, vital, is missing. How many of them will actually have the will to do something beyond a moments introspection before its onto the next distraction – thanks to that voice in their head…

Do you know what the worst part is? Its that those in the mid actually hold all of the pieces and they can use these, real well, to drive a man outsane as they use the signs and symbols that make up his programming along with his fears and attractions to manipulate him ergo even if I shared an A to Z of what they did it would make no real difference to one reading as their own psychospiritual makeup is different and its based on their lives, lineage and the current angle their light is bent at and what it reflects in the kaleidoscope of consciousness as well as their own, personal, reality tunnel. In that way what the ancients meant about the Dao that can be described isn’t it rings true now as it did then. Sadly, it also shows how these once fringe players are main stream, full effect, and how the whole world is in their grip at a time where the real and fakeness are so intricately interwoven that he who points it out is seen as a madman, infidel or heretic.

The Game of Souls has you, my friend.

Till we meet again

Lets pretend that win is the only option etched inside your cerebellum as you parabolically transcend the surly influence of this realm with its squared watermelons, par excellence, who trudge, from one life to the next, along the treadmill most schlep without ever stopping to question:

“Hold on a second. There once was a time when “Win” was the only option etched inside my chest. What happened?“.

That, my friend, is the 8 billion Soul tangent, isn’t it? Note how we shifted from heart to head, back when? This was a (false) self protective mech and the reason for parenthesis is twofold as A) they did the most damage to your inner realms by desecrating your Inner Sense and B) the construction you became to tame the pain the engulfs your Spirit with its flames will never, ever admit that its an impostor at the helm of your consciousness as to do this one would have to embrace the memories they rejected which caused the splintering as you moved from truly feeling and being present in the moment to living in your head via a red and blue shift. Thats on Crip, Blood.

Imagine if you could only win. After a while tears would be wept as there would be no challenges left. Then you’d shake your fist to the heavens and yell “You non maniac! Ping me to Hell because I’m too good at this“. Cue a shift in which rich criminals run everything and suddenly the treadmill makes way more sense, yes? Now if you can, on this stage, reactivate that Win state then that would be something, yes? They won’t like this. Not one bit and they’ll know you’re coming for them and will take this as a threat to their dominance ergo some sweat shall form pon brows that pace in ivory towers of indolence built upon the blood, sweat, tears and adrenochrome they harvest from the plebs as the elect who were selected by… You, dummy! Remember, it was too easy to win with no challenge so you needed someone to play the bad guy in order to allow you to Thunk you’re weak and helpless as that hints the ultimate win is transcending the story in your head as you aren’t it any more than the voice which talks, inces, as you’re the one who is listening. Eternal. Unchanging. Unruffle its feathers, Limbic, and the kerfuffle, R Complex and trill as the PFC onlines again and you grin as to why the Pharaoh wore a birds wings around his head and snake as well for they all exist within. Thats the true facts of evolution and the truth is we devolved from perfection to gain awareness of ignorance which, for a god wearing flesh, is the best a man can get. Wild, isn’t it?

A man needs to be fed so he gets a job and then buys an apple which he eats and digests. That is low res. Somehow, he upgrades his paradigm and considers taking the seeds then planting and nourishing. For a while, nothing happens. Most would give in but he doesn’t relent. Then, all of a sudden, they bear fruit. This is an increased percep. He places a sign which says:

“Take as much as you wish and if you want to leave something as a token of appreciation then that is cool as well but if you can’t then I simply request you plant and nourish what is left after you’ve digested your fill. Thanks”.

That was the OS we all possessed when “All I do is win” was standard equip. We lived in abundance and were willing to die to protect anothers existence. Nowadays its the opposite as everywhere from fingers, twittering, to AK Forty Seven shells, offlining, we’re ready to kill to defend… What, exactly? Why, the (false) self, my friend. A group of people know this and profit from its presence hence they may just be the ones that kill the prophets, dead, then freeze their vibes in text before setting the adepts against the next which is why every single religion has factions within that believe ninety nine percent, identical, but are ready to split heads over the difference. Ha! “You maniac!” said the Psylense to the noiZ as he believed its dominance until he lost his mind, conditioned, and came back to her senses, present, as heart based conscious which said with lips that don’t exist to ears that always listen:

“Without you, nothing exists“.

The only sane response?

“All I do is win!”.

Obviously, this is the uncut gem after its been chipped and polished to remove the earthbound filth of ignorance ergo the nascent steps in gaining this gnosis is classed as psychosis instead at which point they fill said denizen of this floating insane asylum with enough pills to make them rattle but which are, in the end, as ineffective as magic beans. But, imagine we planted them instead? And by that I mean some Jack meets beanstalk action in the sense that if one stops and ponders exactly how and why the placebo effect kicks and why red gel ovals for pain relief are seen as way more effective than simple white rounds containing the same thing one starts to comprehend that symbols don’t have definitions but ecosystems and that opens up a whole nother res as its akin to taking the seeds others expel and using seeming death of the form to reveal the function, eternal, which is to give to the next for its the true definition of abundance.

Imagine if you could only win but not in times of radiant bliss when everyone else was all high res, present and correct, but in the midst of the trenches as the voice in your head thunders:

“Its us against them. Its us against them! Kill the infidels before they do unto us some unspeakable wickedness. Fear not though for the good book says the divine rides with us and, just in case, we’ve got some depleted uranium shells to drop on their babies, developing. That’ll show em who runs this bish, now git!”.

Except this narrative unfolds within, drip fed, as you sit in a cold sweat that you suppress beneath the skin as you huddle in a cubicle as a square watermelon, par excellence. If I were to strip away the bones, flesh and rest do you know what would be left? An information field of energetics that produces a specific resonance of wavelength with a coherent pulsation that is unique in its presence. You are this, my friend. Not John of House Smith or any other BS. Heck, even the “All I do is win” playa is an impingement of this Prime state but, unlike thee, he Knows it with the capitalization present. As time goes the glow dims but every child steps in with Inner Sense at the helm and its presence overflows so much that they expand beyond the crib with their field of influence until they’re packaged off to the local camp of concentration and trained to sit still, look ahead and do well on the test by regurgitating answers, unquestioned.

That is how you create a floating insane asylum, you maniacs. But, remember, you’re doing it to your Self as there are no powers that be unless you let them. Think of the old bully paradigm or, better yet, peruse this street parable:

Round the way there were more than a few crazies. Some of them were ex forces, others just tapped in the head due to the lives they’d lived on the pavement and never managed to process. Then we had the career criminals who made a killing from kicking rear ends for dividends. I knew both sides and noticed the Venn diagram intersection very rarely happened as the altercation simply wasn’t worth the hassle for he who picks on those who won’t fight back or, if they will, actually have mental levels of tolerance for what is expected and thus will not froth at the mouth as they hallucinate you’re the incarnation of the Devil himself and they’re on a divine mission of exorcism that involves placing their holy ice pick directly into your cranium. This may sound like a stretch but you really don’t know the half of it, my friend. Now, there are also levels to this because the crazies would scream and beef among themselves with a similar order that pecks for one yelled:

“Stop scaring my pigeons” (which didn’t exist) as the other retorted:

“Why? What are you going to do about it?” he said as he pointed at his pet Dinictis that needed to be fed.

We, in many ways, hallucinate a collective fealty that is just as illusory but you can’t see a reality tunnel from within (until you do the Knowledge) so when I’d glide on the scene and ask the fellas what kicks they’d air their grievances as we sat on the park bench and I requested they ask their imagination what the story presented by seeing not the scene, external, but feeling the feels within instead. The first attested his mind provided an image of back when in which he felt the presence of his mother, predatory, hanging around him like she was just waiting for him to slip so she could start devouring his developing consciousness. The other mentioned a memory, long dimmed, in which he felt an immense sense of accomplishment at proudly crapping himself so he wouldn’t be bundled off to school on a Sunday and have his weekly dose of fire and brimstone hammered into his head as the priest reminded him he was a decrepit cretin that was born in sin and in need of redemption. As they sat, introspect, their respective external hallucinations dimmed as something more important rose from within that had been previously screaming for attention. What I found fascinating was how one drew the other, like a magnet, and how it was all interlinked for mother is the name for god on the lips and hearts of all children but what do you do if she takes no mess and her mere presence makes you crap yourself as that is the only form of protest you have left? Are you seeing the underlying beauty behind the madness in the sense that they are the ones with the greatest potential to perceive clearly?

When the one with the ice pick, later on, was questioned about its presence after it fell out of his pocket he said:

“Its a holy lance, specially venerated, designed to protect. I carry it everywhen in case its needed for an exorcism” as his lips developed a slight excess of spittle at the corners due to the depot injections they’d slammed in his rear end, earlier on in the AM, on top of the medication that I’d noticed had his fingers pinrolling as it decimated the dopamine receptors in his head due to the decades of their own brand of care and attention…

“And how do you know when you’ll need it?”.

“That is for Him to decide. I simply await the signs for it is my calling to protect the lamb, innocent“.

The question is this, what if he were born into an identical household with the same genetics but atheist? Lets say if Sunday school were switched to a private tutor for algebra instead? Granted, it doesn’t have the same weight for the only numbers that hold immense interest are printed on papers they sell at debt but you get my drift, yes? What if the other mother wasn’t a single parent that lived, vicarious, through her son who she both adored and detested as she generated states of intense stress for him by positively reinforcing the traits she saw in herself whilst dissuading and outright terrifying should he do anything that reminded her of the man that provided half of his genetic heritage and then was gone with the wind after leaving her adrift in order to get between her legs as he was a cunning linguist who gathered no moss as he rolled across the country for his finesse was selling dreams by the dozen as evidenced by his seed, fiercely creative and sensitive, whose innate traits became hallucinations instead as a way of externalizing what he daren’t feel within. Well, that is until I said:

“Imagine we lived in Flatland and were all paper thin, yeah? Now, lets pretend someone passes a ball through the plane. What happens?”. He said, in an instant:

“You’d see a series of concentric circles that shrank and expanded as it progressed before it vanished”.

“Exactly, exactly this. How many would draw then link and intuit an extra frame of reference beyond what they comprehend in a way that made sense? What if we try an imperiment then in which you take that golden eagle that was trying to peck in your head before you came to see me and next time it appears you grab the paper and ink and trap it within the page and see what happens next?”.

He was with it and thus filled pads and scrolls with his scribbles as a way of engaging his perpetually anxious left hemisphere triggered by the mercurial whims of the right, creative, in order to generate psychoemotional homeostasis which, in a twist most ironic, is exactly the same thing as hid in the Bible texts about Jesus sitting in the midst of two thieves ergo the ice was broken as hard men with reps on the pavement kept a leery distance from the dude dragging around a piece of string tied to absolutely nothing as he took his pet Dinictis for a walk and was talking, animated, to his friend, the bird man of Alcatraz, about how the pen is mightier than the pick when it comes to fighting demons, invisible…

Till we meet again

There is the objective and subjective realm. Many may see one but only some can feel the shadows depth. To me it seems there is, trapped within, pain and dread of things that may or may not have been. Adding insult to injury are countless devilish schemes to divide and conquer what remains under various forms of tyranny. On top of this a civil war rages with each side being held in the grip of dictators who say exactly how it is as they fight, wrestle and grip for temporal control of your earthbound spaceship which in itself is stuck in a realm where the Souls can’t dwell by taking limited signals in which are then edited to fit in and show them what they expect as they jettison the rest. Unrealized potential, in full effect.

Taking it back a few steps there are events I couldn’t bear, shame I couldn’t feel and wounds that never healed that weep gently within various aspects of my embodiment. Sometimes they limit motion, ranges, angles and such things. Others are aches and pains that can seem never ending or fleeting. My mood dips and rises by the most obtuse whims of this influence whilst in states of diffuse meditation as there are days when its all gone to hell and the Devil stands there with a grin and I can do naught but laugh because I’m so detached from the life I used to pretend to live. The West would call this psychosis with a hint of de-realization thrown in whilst the East, correct, states the opposite that its transcendence in full effect for one has overcome the illusionary self and all its programming. “Two birds, sitting in the same tree” said the text, ancient, wisely…

Long, long ago parts of me were disconnected. I still feel their absence even though I haven’t accessed them since then. Its strange how you can miss that which you never experienced in the truest sense, yet and still, that is exactly how it is. Merciless thieves broke into my temple and helped themselves to the best, desecrated what was left and daubed their own message along with countless threats across what once was a splendor of innocence. Defiled, tainted, abused. These words described my tale well and each step I took in the flesh is akin to a living hell where there are those parts of me know that fine well what kicks and remember precisely what happened whilst the limited facet says “Not yet, you can keep handling it as you did because we’ve got more interesting things to think and distract you with“. Like I said, civil war. One they cannot win because whoever kills the other dead loses themselves as well. In the midst of this I sit, a ruined king on a broken throne with his empire torn to shreds. A man out of time, on another vibe in this, his last spin in this realm.

Take these gifts I share with abundance for my cup overfloweth and is filled from beyond this false creation that sells all the money thats fit to print to plebs, well adjusted, to such immense social sickness that they mistake wisdom for ignorance whilst, simultaneously, doing the flip thanks to the mental gymnastics they accept to make sense of wearing flesh as they tread on a planet that floats in the abyss whilst chasing a fireball into the distance as the base of their existence.

Each breath feels like death designed to prolong the stress which extends so well and covers, thin, every inch and crevice of my awareness with its noxious influence. Yes, the past is always present. In that sense it never left even if in the interim you picked up a pen and write the wrongs as you see them because one who is driven by vengeance is more than willing to sacrifice himself to take the rest with him. Gladly with a grin as we dive into the abyss because then the hurt and suffering would at least make some sense and hopefully this prevents anyone else from having to witness the trials I’ve survived and thrive within. You can’t afford to tell lies when the truth shines bright inside because to do so would be to besmirch that which survived throughout all they tried to dim my light, prevent my rise and deny my right to speak my mind without fear or reprise. Such is the deal when you come strapped with the wish to go against the System that equips so many of the embodied with a Mind Made Prison which places them in a life of discomfort to which they’re wholly ignorant and have no wish to think different because that which they once possess was disconnected. What I’ve said from the jump is no different for anyone living this realm at the present moment because even though some may think the descriptions are intense and they’ve lived nothing like this you’d be surprised what you find once you dig past the screen of memories of events that never really happened as you recollect nor the anguish so hidden, all usually before the age of ten, that defines the rest of your existence.

Rage against the dying of the light isn’t even something that enters their mind as they instead flick the switch. Such is the electric plight in which, all by design, styled to be seductive, people trade more for less and never question why the equation doesn’t balance in their best interests. And yet for them its better than letting the truth sink in as then they’d have to reclaim their depths. This is abyss with which I dwell and from where I’m sending you this message because I’m sure within there is the same in you my friend. The only difference is I don’t pretend nor hide one bit. Instead I chase my demons when they appear screaming at the top of my head because I won’t let my fear be used against me as a weapon any more. I have too much respect for the inner child that bore Witness to the events that fragmented my consciousness and sent me scrambling as my tortured and broken flesh was assaulted in an attempt to murder my Spirit before I’d even made a dent or considered making a chip in the edifice of modern living. Thats on Crip, Blood…

Guess thats the thing with these interdimensional beings as they know the deal when it comes a seed which could grow to a tree and shake their very story to its roots and thus they poison it, attack it every chance they get and purposefully malnourish it. All under the guise of care give when in reality they couldn’t care less and take all they’d get and then come back demanding interest. The depths of wickedness in this realm is something I know full well. They joys and pleasurable things are mysteries in many respects so what the common man knows well to be is foreign and alien. The land within which I dwell is just as odd for him as he lacks the bearing, insight and frame of reference but I reassure they are connected in ways more than six as the nature of this dimension is to make a killing, in every sense anywhen.

The Game of Souls has you, my friend.

To some, reading, it may scream “That man is depressed. He must be off his meds!” when the truth is something else as it is them, the 81%, who (in the words of Krishnamurti) are so well adjusted to mass social sickness that to question the paradigm means ones mental health is not correct. Can you see how slick your Opponent is and why I’ve said you’re being fed upon a predator of consciousness? Once you learn to divine the fine line between the unconditioned mind and the limits it learned to accept, back when, then there are but two choices:

Madness or enlightenment.

Jung knew this well hence his Red Book attempt as did PKD with his Exegesis and its thanks to them I came to comprehend that enlightenment is a solo sport as second hand gnosis is as much use as a man on an island of lesbians. Its like trying to describe a dream to someone else as it shows, real well, how words are indeed spells and rites as they lack the emotional depth of symbols and their innate ecosystems which brings us back, full circle, to the whole objective/subjective thing aka the microscope and telescope effect.

And yet, like Mr Anderson, I choose to persist for if I hadn’t checked the notes left by those who too stepped to create the Path by walking who knows if I’d have made it to this point in my adventure in the flesh where I came to comprehend the matter with Spirit does hide your greatest strengths beneath intense dreads hence the shadows depth offers illumination for those who dare traverse these inner states that the West denies exist but, ironically, pimps relentless via their use of signs and symbols which always put the Three on the Four but thats another topic, eh? Speaking of which, if you can decode the glyph above presented and what it is truly saying you may just Know the Ledge as I share to inspire others to take their own steps and neither follow nor believe anything I’ve said for these are simply my meanderings in a quest for meaning and liberation.

Comprehend, my friend, that one must die in the flesh in order to transcend the tricks of death as your mind doesn’t shift at the moment of disconnection so its best to build what survives destruction as this is the vessel of emancipation that is feather light as well for this realm is sealed, Hermetic, to keep the ignorance within… In an ironic twist, should you choose to Know the Ledge, you can reverse this sketch whilst living but it means the Hero’s Quest is in full effect as you delve into the shadows depth and all that was hid from the first time you rose, petrified, in bed and were certain that an invisible menace was staring only to have your embodied sensations and intuition waylaid by parents who shooed you away as they proclaimed:

“Its all in your head. Go back to bed”.

Who knew that “They Live” was a documentary, eh? I guess thats why I said there is what you watch and what it says for the most amazing thing about Hollywoods spells is how they scratch an itch whilst avoiding it and not going beyond the surface depth hence you’ll come back, again and again, which is always good for business. The thing is, with a Warriors intent, one can use the very tools of suppression and manipulation as vehicles for gnosis and enlightenment so the question is:

Are you Max? Or Vincent?

Till we meet again

You have two lives. The second begins the moment you realize there is but one because from then on you can choose, if you so wish, to flip the script and unlearn all the BS that was poured into your head that made you accept what you get, which is far less than you’re worth. Ask your Self now:

“When I’m riding in the hearse to become intimate with the earth will I sit back and think I lived a life of worth?“

Worth is something you can define yourself. I can’t tell you this, you’ve got to look within own realm and it takes an immense degree of honesty because your mind plays tricks and convinces you weakness is strength and so much other foolishness. Consider the thoughts of children before they are tainted by the System. You cannot tell them they can’t achieve what they desire or wish because the silence speaks loudly from them and they know there is nothing they can’t do or accomplish. Flash forward a bit and you’ll find them as teens, already a decade into getting beaten to their knees as they crawl around in this world trying to fit in with the rest of the mental midgets who know not what they lost in exchange for what they think they gained as a way to play this Game in which they trade their potential for security and Fiat money rules the day.

You know fine well what you came here to be so why not be real for a moment and stop the self deceit and the rest of the trickery? Cheers. You don’t have to tell me. Just be honest with your Self but the thing is we’re living in times in truth is detested and daily new illusions spring asking, no telling, actually commanding you to believe in what is said otherwise you’re worse than Hitler himself. Everyone dies. Not everyone lives. Stuffing your face with potato chips as you binge watch another box set and then trek into work to play office politics is in no way shape or form what any kid before the age of ten would ever dream of allowing themselves to accept and yet you did. You did and that process should hit at the murder of the Self Slaves religiously engage in. All due to the System and its programming.

Why? Why do you put up with this? The crappy job, idiotic boss and moronic friends. I’m not saying you’re better than them but the simple fact is you wouldn’t be reading this message if there wasn’t something inside you that needs you hear what you’ve muted in yourself due to years of conditioning as well as the immense noise in your head that took the place of the silence and distorted its message. In case you’re wondering why I keep referring to this state its because that is what is. Its the key to all of this and anything I say about it as a bad translation because it destroys the message due to being mangled by language but if I offer you the pointers so you imperience it yourself? Well that is something else but you have to want it. You have to want with a depth and intensity that verges on craziness because your friends, family and the rest will go out of their way to dissuade you from flipping the script and actually starting to live instead of subsisting. Not because they care about you or think you’ve flipped your lid. No their reasons are far more selfish because if you do this and they continue crawling along on their knees what does that say about their reality?

No one can accept that they are weak and victims of institutionalized trickery born of spiritual wickedness placed highly because the implications are too much and people simply don’t want to see this and thus prefer the comfort of ignorance. Self development is a lonely process. No ifs, ands or buts about it because not everyone is cut out to be this intense and most prefer the false narratives that play in their head about life, death and all thats in between. All you’ve got to do is ask them as simple question then glance at their dish as the answer races to their lips and notice how quick they swallow it:

“If everything you think you know about life is actually genuine and correct then your life wouldn’t be a mess, yes?“

Hoo! Watch their mask glitch as eyeballs flit and brows furrow due to how what you’ve said threatens all they invest in as “The Way It Is” when in reality it is no such thing. Some, however, are fully in the grips of apathy thanks to the depleted neurotransmitters their always on lives bring and they know, on some level, they are simply filling in days till death with as many distractions as they can get because they have neither the energy, intent or desire to change as thing because it sounds like too much effort. They’ll answer quickly “Yeah but what are you going to do?” because they’ve already cast themselves in role of eternal victims as long, long ago the fight was beaten out of them… Not me though.

Some of us never stopped rebelling, with good cause as well because living like a Slave is akin to being in Hell as your flesh constricts to limit and torture your awareness as you stroll around this plane, oblivious to the pain that defines your frame as you feel nothing below the head. Total disconnection from the flesh and with it an abdication of the present moment as they run after this distraction then the next. Another set of Victims. From these kind its always best to disconnect, temporary or permanent, because you become who you’re around and only 8% of the world is cut out to be a Warrior and stand by himself. Finding them is akin to coming upon a ready supply of Unobtanium and that is really what beats in the chest of the willhelpme project as the message I send will allow the real ones to connect and develop their strength because there are no strangers or enemies from the Warriors lens – Only teachers and that is why its said:

Most people are already dead. They are simply waiting for the flesh to catch up and be laid to rest as they live surface level lives and are totally unaware of themselves and the rest. Look around you. They’re everywhere and I pity them and the repetitive scripts they live that keep them spinning between one and twelve with a constant reset that offers the illusion of progress when the only thing that changes is the date on the calendar and the size of their waistline. They, of course, will go out of their way to deny that that is the way it is because they’ll point at so many external things that say they’re a big boy who did well but their inner realm is totally absent. Noise. Silence. The difference is immense and once you’ve tasted it for yourself its akin to clicking you’re a frog in a kitchen thats been sitting in a pot of warm water and they’ve been steadily cooking you to serve as a fresh dish when your standard equip means you could jump at any moment.

See? Thats the trick. No one put a gun to your head (yet) or a consciousness modulating chip in your flesh (yet) as the current coercion of the System is as subtle as it nefarious because from a young age you’re told to accept being powerless and define yourself by external things. This in itself is a fools errand that kills your Spirit from within because you fall victim to abstractions and symbols in lieu of the real thing. Stop and think its like someone saying “Would you like a burrito, friend?” and then offering you an image whilst beaming “Tuck in!”. You’d think it was ridiculous, yes? “I can’t eat this. Its a picture of a dish. Not the real thing” and yet right now in your head you’re doing the same thing as you’re pimped by the devilish language known as English and so many other things designed to lure you in to a position akin to kneeling at the feet of midgets, just like your parents did and theirs before them. A long string of losers is what made you who you are at this moment and without doing a thing you too will pass on this most pernicious inheritance to your kids and they’ll do it all again because the System relies on your ignorance, lack of will and distorted inner realm to not make the links that have been placed right in front of your dish since you came here to experience the living hell known as the Game of Souls on this level. Taking it back to the top:

You have two lives. The second starts when you realize the first will end because from then on all bets are off and you’ll play your chips how you wish as you see the table is crooked. The fix is in and the Game is rigged, my friend, so why not try something else? The Path of Power is calling. Can you hear the Psylense?

Till we meet again

Can you imagine, just for a second, you live in Town A and, often, travel to Town B. This next place is a home away from home and you know it well as its all part of your zone. Lets say you die in B and visit the place they call C. What happens next? For most this sketch sticks them back in the flesh in the place they were born so they can do it all again. What they never stopped to examine or comprehend was that B is to C like A links to Z ergo there are a whole load of destinations on this trip but only one is final… What do I mean by this? Simple:

For there to even be an alphabet means there has to be a space in which to erect or etch those glyph to which you attach meaning, yes? In that respect it is akin to the weary traveler stopping to think “Hold on a second. All of my life I’ve went from A to B. Why don’t we see whats missing instead?“. And they did. Then discovered a whole alphabet that was so far beyond the ken of their family and friends that they were a tad weirded out and tried to “talk some sense into em“. These are the dangers of deprogramming, my friend, but its also a hint that you can’t unawaken because lets say, in his head, this Warrior goes from A to M and sits there, humming, the only sound you make with closed lips then dies, comes back again and looks around then says “Hmm, interesting”. Off rip he will rebel against the System and what it presents as its designed to etch binary thinking into his consciousness. This may be demonstrated, real well, by trying to balance a chair on two legs when class is in sesh as gets that subtle point in the mid represents a hint about the unfinite made flesh. From that point on its all out because a part of him clicks, if not fully recollects, that there is more, much more, to this bish hence your mind doesn’t change when you die. What do I mean by this? Simple:

We are programmed to respect things like elders, parents and religion but, in the end, that only makes you subservient and, in effect, a lesser version of them. That is akin to the first person meeting death and thinking someone will swoop in with wings and lace him with cosmic intelligence of the step beyond what he’s seeing. Won’t happen. The Gnostics clicked this and were killed for their efforts to spread this wisdom hence why so much of what Jesus said was edited from the record and flipped into a meek and mild image when, in reality, he was akin to Neo in the Matrix as he dodged shells, emptied clips and put a whipping on his foes that has them yelping to this day. Paul, the traitorous triple agent, is to blame for this but moreso than this legend its the ones who accept and propagate it without stopping to check the credits and credentials as well. In other words, “Know ye not ye are gods?” is the A to Z mindset that alpha and omegas this bish by comprehending it all plays out inside your consciousness and without this magical resonance this place simply does not exist. How do you like them apples, Siri?

This is why I said that man cannot create a worm but invents gods by the dozen instead, gives them a symbol as a point of ref, invests emotions therein and forgets the OG sketch and yells, instead, “Death to the infidels!“. Thats straight up A-B thinking, in full effect. Someone who takes the next step in the flesh would stop and examine their bundle of ignorance and if it worked to create a life that felt even half way decent without a load of delusional coping mechs. Granted, for many this is a bridge too far over a tumultuous seabed ergo Doing the Knowledge is akin to becoming a heretic infidel. It takes a lot of strength to even attempt to delve into these waters which are neither still nor calming but once you get to the eye of maelstrom then you see with clear vision that comprehends that your mind doesn’t change when you die much like a load of steam that did condense then was flash frozen sentience which grips to the form it was given and forgets its true resonance. In that respect you could say this is a lower vibration that pays homage to a higher state and thus does not see what is commonplace between that it seeks without and what truly dwells within. Stop and percolate on this for a sec and see what kicks as its not a diss to religion but actually a respectful homage for this is the reason you get “We are closer to thee than the vein in your neck”. What else can that ref but pure consciousness, my friend? Doesn’t that make a load of sense? Look at “naked and happy in the garden” before being ejected as your unfinite awareness sans the skin that it wears to interact with this realm and, whilst, you’re there, could you ponder for a bit if your phone and wifi tech may just be that old antichrist they promised, back when, delivering on its promise to enSlave your children? Siri = iris when flipped for a reason. Do the Knowledge and then the missing link of why the apple is already bit starts ringing all types of bells that yell “Ding, dong. The (false) self is dead”. But, it won’t give in without a flex of its muscles called fear and dread for it can only exist in this realm and thus is heavily invested in you coming back again to do what it says via that voice in your head… Marinate overnight for best results then serve with a chill.

Listen, you cannot, fundamentally, respect anyone or thing more than your Self because this the thing that makes all possible in this realm and any other you can imagine. This is why one, sitting in A, can travel to C as there is a still place in the mid I’ve termed the Vertical Axis. Schizos know it well as they, haphazardly, bounce along it and that is akin to having your record deck playing a stack of vinyl between which the need flips ergo the melody becomes chaos instead of a soothing rhythm which is what the Shaman generates instead. The reason you don’t know this, in the West, is due to the witchhunts and such things which took what was once common knowledge and criminalized it quick. Let me give you an example:

I watched a documentary once in which some baby monkeys were capering, in the trees. One fell and hit the deck and let out a tiny yelp. His mother came to assist and yelled out directions to her kids who scampered into the jungle and bought back some leaves, berries and bark as well. She set to chewing this, super quick, and spitting it into a poultice which she fixed to her kid then held them close as well. The peeps, filming, went and collected samples and found it contained an analgesic and herb that promoted healing. Isn’t that amazing? That is what you lost, thanks to the Inquisition, as it was your ancestral wisdom and inheritance they traded for something else. A philosopher once said that man worships a thing he cannot see but destroys that which proves its existence, abundantly, and I couldn’t help but think how correct this is. Why? Because they A to B and never stop to see the deal and are thus pinned to wheel which begets another spin. Buddha lived his lyrics which is why they tried to Truman him by selling a false illusion which almost pulled him in before he stopped and did comprehend the nature of this trick which led to him floating from A to Z whilst resting under the shade of a tree which is not far switched from how the masses are bewitched by the modern Hollywood spell, eh?

Your mind doesn’t change when you die which means if you were ignorant of the depth in the flesh and never stopped to up your res then you’ll get what you expect as a one way ticket back to the flesh to run the treadmill. It makes me laugh when I see people get worked up, quite furiously, about which diet is truly spiritual and other such ridiculous things as they never seem to click that we eat death to live as a poignant reminder that this realm constantly recycles the same energetics even down to the water that you drink. You think thats air you’re breathing, my friend? Good, because it is ergo our relationship with the trees is a lifelong thing as they take what we expel and then turn it into something else. Makes you wonder why nobody ever studied photosynthesis to create a water powered engine yet? Or, maybe they did and accidentally drove off a cliff. Whoopsie!

Listen, the forces at the helm may actually be super benevolent and all I’ve said hence could simply be testament to my ignorance. I am more than willing to accept this perspect for all I possess is a strong opinion, loosely held. Try telling this to anyone who is a strict A to B man and thinks C is best left in the hands of someone beyond his station and watch them yell and rebel as they call you an infidel. Read that link for the testament of the rebel mystic of Islam as it lays the sketch, real well. This is what I mean about your mind remaining as this life is, in effect, training for the final altercation and thus if you haven’t leveled up in the flesh by defeating the demons you inherited then its a one punch knockout, straight back into the flesh, as you gain a fresh baby brain and do it all again. Is that their fault our yours? Better yet, read this text for a hint about the test and how things are not what they present but also obvious. If you Know the Ledge and have your Soul in ascent for it is unfinite and knows exactly what I said and meant but those types don’t need a hint as they, by themselves, will awaken the Warrior within. Its the 81% who are beyond saving ergo let the dead bury the rest who are just like them and labor under the illusion of something they term “Being human”. What is that, exactly? Believing you’re John of House Smith who likes that and this but detests X, Y and Z? Have you ever actually trekked to those far distant lands of the alphabet and seen if Formosa is actually filled with seductive maidens and such things in a state of idyllic bliss awaiting a man, so perfect? What if it is? Or isn’t? It could actually be packed with hungry cannibals who can’t wait to toast your flesh as a gratefully accepted burnt offering or they may just be like you and me and tell fanciful tales of how the people in lands A to B walk on their hands and defecate from their mouths… Check your local comments section for evidence.

Till we meet again