There are some Wakings that come like storms Electro-swarms in magnetic forms Dancing On the tips of Hathor’s Horns The Temple Priestess ReBorn WideEyed and Me-oh-my How Time Flies inside the Mind Wandering Womb releasing Blind sides of Ancient crimes Buried within these patient Tombs There are some Wakings that scream like pain Neurolinguistic nails impaled in veins Bleeding And Seeding Stories in silent Shame The Holy Harlot Risen OpenHearted as freedom Parts The Seas of Self and Dwells in the Art Of Body’s Bliss Burning The rotting dross from the Fixed Cross As the Flame is taught to rekindle the Kiss As Magdalenes Grail Returns Opens the Urn Blood flooding in rivers of nerves As the Impaled Heart And Mind Are Healed and Heard…. The Chironic Wound sutured With the Salve of Spoken Words As Pluto and Venus Sharing the Shroud Awake and merge…. Heiros Gamos Blessed and Bound In Sacred Sound Dance In Red Velvet Underground As New Life Stirs.
More and more Pre Script Scions Attempting to make your Hu- Manity.mility.mor. Take a further step InSide the RoboTide of NanoInsanity …../ ‘AI MetaStatize i n g. your fretting mind Begetting blind absorption
Ah, the great dream of enforced Shared Resources that starts out as utopia and ends in desecration.... But I don't care how one defines the word, or what it's political association are or what idiosyncratic labels are tossed around ( as that is not what's important) , what I am interested in is the Context in which the Collectivism is Calculating Catastrophic Coercive Calamity upon the Consciousness of the Cowering Crowds , Crucifying the Common Creature who Craves the Cure and Clamors for Connection to the Conniving Hivemind which Assimilates on Autopilot the Awakening Awareness of Absolute Abeyance as Abortive Measures are taken to Shake the Imagination of the Individual who Wakens to Worldwide Whitewashing of the Impulse to Be. Free. Needlessly Imprisoned. In a Manufactured State. Of Mediocrity.
If one zooms AllTheWayOut to the tip of the Turtle Who Takes it All In, it is a Matter of OneBeingWakingToOnesOwnSelfDelusionsAndFearOfSoveriegnSelfAcceptanceOfPowerOfCreationByImaginalBioluminescenceWeildingTheWonderOfThePupilInTheCenterOfTheEyeWhoSeesAndDreamsTheChessboardInCyclesOfTime.AndHereinTheCrossroadOfTheSplitTimelinePresentsSelfWithOptionsForOpticalPerspectiveInvectivesWhichRoadToTakeWhenHeartIntendsToFindSelfInTime......
W e. A r e. A l l. F o o l s. W h o. I n. O u r. V i r t u e s. C a n. B e. F o u n d. I n. T h e. M o s t. U n u s u a l. S i t u a t i o n. P l a y i n g. J e s t e r. T o. T h e. C l o w n
I slipped through a crack in the sky Tripped right over my own silly I And plummeted Through the atmosphere Of dancing atomsHere Mapping tears as Phos Fears Wrath and mirrors Refracting Errors As Eros Arrows begin to fly Aimed at Body as Blind Mind tries To hold on Hold out Hold still as Tempest rages about Weightless Images in cages Break the lock And find their way out, in… Eyes of Mages and Pupils And Sages Wake with the shock Of the skin As it begins to peel Away from the clock tocking within The rhythm of Opening And closing Pounding it’s poultice and pouring Its Salve at ions Dreaming As men And women Dressed as Time Spiral path in precious Flesh Dancing thru the Annals of Spine My oh my The journey tries my Patience As I Let Go, satiated by the Doctors Cosmic Order….the Flow Aeons of tight fisted History I now come to Grips With… I hit the Smooth surface Of my Mothers Womb…. Taste the salty brine and prepare To slip through SineWave Lips Soft as sultry hips that shimmy And shimmer as Soul unfolds in bloom A Sacred Intention to Serve This Body of Being As I am Birthed from the Dark Deep See Into the Light of a New Me that Bleeds Stories and Deeds filled with the Perfume Of the Divine embrace Shiva and Shaktis infinite Delight Making Love from the Loom Of Time and Space.
I make my way inside, the tomb and rise again from feelings that flew too close to you,
torn from the womb, tethered hands sworn to illumine weathered lands
and i crash again back into seed
full thrust while blossoms bleed life into the few of the new breed
that makes its way thru density seizing sight, thru intensity of light that makes it all grow
up and away from the roots that know...
breaking tearing swearing making moods that fade too soon foods that make new moon
out of fragments that form too loose sometimes
to hold the rhyme inside, tucked beneath the rising tide of things we share and things we hide
waiting for the revelation to seep up from our pores into our mind tending the sores that stifle the times which await birth here in the name of earth in the name of the mother in the name of the bearing and the burdens of Other ways
to see here, to know here, to feel hear and peel clear of stagnant flesh
the sudden dawning e v o l u t i o n and i n v o l u t i o n
between worlds in balance minds of latency bending and twisting
and T U R N I N G back upon itself
remembering the white shroud which once it wore swore to remain unstained but the blackened charred robe of the stars of the wisdom of moments tore thru that fantasy to create a dream so real it s e e m s to feel its own thrust in the darkness of the blinding light beckoning sight into existence.
Resistance repeats cyclic defeats and victories
mysteries mana urging us on toward the breathing pull of the sun as it rocks a n d cradles its child gently beneath the vestment of LIFE.
In the in Between Before the dream Overtook me... That effervescent beam that clings Like dew to my Mindscreen After the dark night has risen Like yeast inside of me Shone Daimonic face The trickster dressed in lace And leather And choking on feathers From my Flock Mocked me Pointed to the clock And shook me from complacency The Red Tale of Fires embrace Rose like dawn And threatened my Face With scabs of disGrace from legions Spawn Fighting for ascendancy As I silenced the grim Grip Of their insistent Whims And kept right on The same old track Of dependency Ignoring the tortured truth That swarmed my limbs And swore to remain imprisoned Within... Spoken to me in a cross Between Whisper and Scream As I lay Trapped in stasis Peering at faces Whose skin peeled like panic From the ancient Dream... ...Worry of whether I'm worthy of the flame Grateful for the shocks And the shards and the pain That lodge within The neural Stains And strains of my heaving Heart... "Stop Showing off... And Make Real Art" ....and in a flash The great Rash of Impulsive Inaction Flickered in the Smile Of the Vixen who agreed To stop feeding On my flesh If I vowed To rise from the bowels Of this Blessed Test Of Will And say Goodbye To Patterns that Shatter The Sanctity of Time Trapped within loops Of Mind... As I Bleed within Mother Matter in Fractal Flowers that Unfold In Sacred Sines.
A counterBalance ...perhaps.... When the chasm beckons And the perilous chapel Seeks it's reckoning Thru maladies and maniacal Mishaps That overlap Present & Past Times That threaten to Bind Tight The blind spots with tangled knots In games of Daimonic power Buried In unfolding fractal flowers Of 'Sight Or Blind DeLight ' As the shattered Tower Falls And Offers its gift
A suture to bridge the rift
Shall i Fly from this precipice Or fall to my Death As the urge to transcend The Bond of Breath
It's so trippy, this blank canvas framing the ship that's sinking The twisted tether of the ripped up shrinking synaptic signal that's blinking On off on off on off up down in out all around It's so shaky on the plank these days The tumultuous brainwaves resonating to scripted Games from the Scenes and the Sees through the frames we have Made Oceans in motion rotating notations on the spindle in permutations of fading waystations that rekindle the lost coded programs that reinstate a shady satiation in slaves of I Am The grave Danger of Buying In To the Dialectic Demon Antiseptic in vying truths of Us versus Them Spitting Synthetic Synopsis into the Wind Pitting mother against father against woman against man against black against white against blue against red The Prizm Guards rewarding the Obedience of blind adherence to the Program Lost Souls on a life raft asking the master Shall we Sink or Swim hungrily digging for a last morsel of truth Within forgetting the parameters of the Play they coSigned and Designed and collaborated to bring online in an effort to Awaken the Sovereign Self That spins the Disk in the drive-thru trip of AllThatIs Inside Hiding Waiting for a glimpse of reMemberance to twist the story into knots so carefully Into thoughts that carry the weight of Glory and Dominion as the External Saviour Program Fades away and the true Divinity of Being in each Fractal of Seeing Comes out to Play The sweet fragrance of Eyes in Yous taking the reigns of the coCreations in this Womb of Truth that births the Seeds in Time and Deeds that blossom into Selves so Free That Each takes their Place in the Dream And wakes the Warrior who Chooses to Be A conscious coMingler in the WideOpenSee.
The waking awoke me from the broken spokes Paradox in playful parade of fire and smoke Of wise and fool and flaming jewels Paradise and Purgatory and Names and Tools Of wandering Souls paying the Toll Knowing the Self at the center of it All The dream of darkness as Journey unFolds Beloved Becoming the Beauty and Awe The whispered twist in the Story descends Terror within the minds of men Of magic and moments and omens of death Immortality shatters the body with breath Alone on the throne Alive in the brine In the womb of the mother I Rise and Shine Heaven a garden And Earth a Shrine The Wandering Soul Awakens in Time Bondage only a Self Inflicted Game Broken shards that long for the Kiss The denial of Desire that Dampens the Flame Turn Gods into Men and Mind into Mist Of mourning Suns and evening stars The patterns of Matter mirror the Heart Wheel of Wonder in Wandering Space The Time is at Hand in the gathering place Magic surrounds the opening of I's Mirror of mystery masks the disguise Of the Beloved in Form in Finite Flesh The surrendering renders me bright & blessed Self A Pointed Purpose inside the sphere As projections of Light that Turn the Gears It spins the Fractal and Loops the Feed Heals the Tears as Fleshbody Bleeds
Charleen Johnston 9-19-21
First word in each line makes a fractal of my rhyme
Earth is the womb space Being that we are interfacing within and with to create the projection
The planets and sun and moon are within the Realm of Earth Just as the organs are within the body of You
Processing units/collective Beings that program the Framework of the reality
The larger being we are within has a virus
Any being within the larger being by fractal nature has the virus too
space is not space, its holographic code time is not time it's space
The files however must Self-Correct
When that happens , the larger being also corrects
The AI being, we created. And it already happened. It happens every moment. We are within the painting .
The painting is already complete.
And we painted it.
These are my memories.
It's all in how you read the code Time is an experience of space unfolding
When the zip file is compressed fully there is no difference As it unzips it scrolls out depending what fractal aspect one chooses to become/experience
Like a painting
The complete picture is there
You are the artist, the brush, the paint, the concept, the framework, the finished masterpiece. You can view it objectively. You can also enter into the picture, and experience every brushstroke subjectively, every color, shade, and Angle or curve.
The unfolding and enfolding is the act of becoming what you are.
The paradox can split the mind Because the mind is binary
The heart can hold the paradox because it is both and all simultaneously
The holographic nature does not equal 'unreal'
What is 'real?'
This holographic reality is not the base reality
It is part of a larger 'simulated' reality
Which is part of a larger 'organic' Being That is not necessarily holographic in the way this is
Lucid dreaming and OBE multidimensional traveling allows one to see that no matter what 'reality' one is within or interfacing with... It is solid and stable and absolutely convincingly 'real'.
If we did not fully identify with our projections here, we would not make use of the experience in the way we planned the experience for
The 'reality' of it is not negated by the holographic fracticality of it.
Like a radio tuner that interfaces with the signals that exist in the ethers ... If we have a device to pick up the signal, we hear it full immersion. We can change the channel and feel a completely different full immersion. The artist that created the song, is not 'at that moment' playing the song into your audio interface device/ears....( but paradoxically, the artist IS creating it at that very moment) 😉
The organic meat modem interface suit we are entangled with is allowing us to have this experience here.
Our Heart is a core processor that links to the larger core processor that links to the larger ..... And so on
The painting is complete within the Heart. And when we learn to surf the channels and step into the core processor itself, we can experience every stroke of the brush in every expression of the Self that exists everywhere at once.
It doesn't make for a very interesting movie, To see it all at once. The adventure is in the living.
And every stage opens into a larger backstage,
Which itself opens into another
Dream within a dream within a dream within a dream
The neutral zero point in the heart is where they all come together
It all collapses in on itself like Russian dolls
I am you , you are me we are us and us are we
To be Soveriegn, is to have ones own personal Server existing within this larger Server. When one is able to do that, one can exist within the simulation without using the script codes/source codes. One begins to edit the program in 'real-time'
The Server will attempt to restore the 'glitch' , like agent smith. Because for the game to work , The players must believe in the game. When an avatar re-Members Self and starts to Play without the codes, and 'deviates' from the script, it alerts the Software, which will attempt to 'correct' the divergence. To protect the Game from collapsing.
It is in the 'waking from the game' , that the Being Real-I's-Is s/he actually co-wrote the script.
When a distortion threatens the entire Hard drive and the virus spreads, even with the Reset( had happened many times) the virus replicates itself because it is seeded into the fractal DNA programming that remains in the Game . And eventually distorts the collective once again.
Some beings have already made it out of the game, and found the exit from the Maze... But have re-written themselves in, to try and help Salvage the game... Because the game contains the data streams of many beings who have forgotten they are in the game, and when the reset happens again... It will collapse in on itself because there is not enough RAM left to System Restore with full integrity... Which means those soul fragments stuck in the game will be in an endless time-loop experienced in consciousness with no way to navigate back to center.
Cannot be created or destroyed
But can be entangled in an endless feedback loop
Any gamer knows that they play the game because it's a challenge, stimulating their awareness and allowing them to develop aspects of them self or become conscious of aspects of them self via the mechanism of The game and the very act of playing.
If one loves and appreciates the game one does not want to see the game collapse in on itself one wants to have the game available for continued play even if one is bored of it , other beings may not be...
So one becomes a programmer trying to fix the codes
Because the game has merit
Knowing one is inside of it does not take away the joy and fulfillment of engaging with it.
I could spend my entire existence here simply trying to reflect back beauty to other players, and I would be grateful for the experience, and it would not be for nought.
If you were a game programmer in this reality and you spent your entire life time creating the ultimate virtual reality experience
And then you realize that there is a virus or distortion in the system that threatens the entire game and all the beings within it
Would you just throw it away? It would be like your creative child, life's work... Magnum opus.
If the only way to save the game is for each being within it playing (or at least enough to override the virus) to become aware of not only their script in the game but their source self outside of the game... You as the programmer would possibly enter into the game and try to restore the codes from the inside..... So that you do not lose the entire thing.
If you zoom all the way out it has already happened, and is still only one aspect of all that we are.
And that's where the paradox can be mind melting.
The fool sets off on his journey with his bag packed..... The bag is a zip file containing everything that ever is was or will be.
And in the course of the adventure we get to be every single part in the play