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
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
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
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
...the moment you give up the integrity of your own bioEnergetics via the JabErWocky and the like.... You consent to being another Artificial Neural Network in the Hive of the MindDistracted and Infected with Mal(evolent)(soft)Ware that helps to power the new Stage... The Age.... The new Energy Mining Operation ....You Are the Battery, the CellSignal Tower... The SellYourSoul Cellular Sigil in the Ritual...The Rites of The Mass.es underGoing Synaptic reWiring. CollectiveBodyPolitik Mining for Digital Currency through your own Neural HighWays.... The Digital Current Seas are rising... The Waves of ElectroMagnetic PimpMines are Rising.... And You have given up
Your own Will
In the turning of the Wheel
The Game is Inside of You
The RealEstate is not outerSpace
And Time is Space Unfolding
As the Files
With the Script
U. R. Energetically
In the new ArtificeOfLight
InSides of Synaptic Tides
As the Angles of the Arc
Lead you into the Loop
To Feed Back your Will
In the Cosmic Soup
d.i.c.e. Your Mind
And d.i.e. In Time
Holding no reMembraneDance
Of all the Cycles locked inSide
Sinews Made Flesh
Of your Precious Existenz
In a Heart that Transcends the width
Of all you Know
Every Body is a Key
Don't let the Locks
ReMember your Infinite Destiny
And reTurn your Sovereign King
To the Throne of your
Wonder and Majesty
Update/ 9-2022: the Soup we Swim in is SWelling
As the Frequencies Freak and Tweak NeuralsPeak
As Grounding Tethers Weaken within As we Dangle from the wireless Rope like the Hanged Man
In a Sequestered Sea of WAN
Last dream upon waking
He has come for me…. Pursuing for aeons I seem to know…. I try running down the road but go back, start to climb down the side of the rocks on the cliff side, figure I can crawl up under and hide…. Then i Let Go… in Exhaustion …. Existentially weary from lifetimes of running and hiding and trying to escape pursuit…. I turn and slowly walk back up the road, straight into the Dark Man, who is on my trail. This takes him Off Guard. I calmly walk out into the road, it’s a highWay, I lay face down and Surrender.He puts the Gun to my Head…. I can feel the cold barrel. But I am not afraid. I ReMember Now, how many times I’ve let go, dissolved into the other Side, left SeemingSelf behind. It’s really not painful…. I smile….I wonder where I will Wake Up Next. He pulls the gun away and runs off for a moment, as if suddenly unsure what to do. I don’t move. I’ve already let go, surrendered, I’m Ready. Take me. He comes back, attempts in various ways to pull the trigger, to finish the job. Cars are coming. He is fretting. He wanders away again. Comes back. I don’t move. I feel a Sense of calm and Freedom I have known over and over again, and wonder why it takes so long
To just Let go.
Eventually he pulls me up out of the road. It No Longer matters
This is the swan song.....
Demonacrobaticommunist beer pong twisted into misty fists of sovietLiberal newDawns
In Daze of Knights in masks and disArmoured
Rights and Lefts that rise enMasse to hail the new Pawns as they are swapped for Queens and Kings on the chessboard of Light and Dark flights of Fancy
Rapt Attention as sewn Dissension begets new Dimensions of Red Imposition
Get into position
Let's say this simply so the useful idiots
Can begin to rescind their terror
Let's open leaden lids and wipe the mirror
Clean, this dream is about to get more twisted
Yet, Resistence just a false flag assistance from the Scripted Set and Setting as Debts are counted and regrets embedded in mounting Systems of Slavery
The flavor of this mess
Order out of chaos as the agitators profess
....politik pointing to prolific policy's of pathetic arrest of sovereignty as the blessed messengers confess their incompetency
This is the Swan Song
I want to say it straight but my finger-tongue obfuscates and nameless shame penetrates reminiscences of the defenseless days of burning stakes and bludgeoned brains laid to
Waste in bodies I've been alive inside in times like these in lives that bleed the broken neural codes that fold me back into Somatic Steeds that weave my Soul through dreams and Seams too numerous and bold to behold in scenes that flicker through golden Reels of Old.
This is the Swan Song
Born once more to bore my way through this maze of Youth and Age in a new Play written on the script of the burning Page that smoulders with the smoke of Burning Sages
On the stage of Time, trapped by my own Will to Feel the rage and Weild the Wage of War up my Spine.... Just trying to climb my way out... Rewind the fine twine of the cage of mind and threads that bind me to this climate of crime projected from inside the blind screen of shouting demons Acrobats of simulated semen priming the new aeon to line up.... One.... More....Time..... As the Cycles Ride the Tide of this MassIve Wave of mutating Mind.....in a sideways glance I watch as the Trance takes over.... The melody of mania dances through the crowds as the Swan Song Hovers......frozen.....
You thought you could hide
from the whisper
you fought the Call
and you tore thru the blister
where time falls away
crashing thru mind
and things too small to find
dont you see them shining
dont you hear them
waves crashing me by
waves taking my eyes
thru symphonies of light
beginning the tale
You thought you could hide
from the screams
you chased the miseries
and ripped thru the seams
where life fades away
dissolving thru fantasy
and moments of insanity
dont you see them dancing
dont you feel them
waves crashing me by
waves taking my eyes
thru symphonies of light
beginning the tale
Oh, Now….it’s Time….. It’s Time and there’s Space to Rewind the film…. The flimsy foothold of the Brash and Bold on this begotten realm…
How many ways shall modern day slaves continue to be led into the graves of their own complacency, ‘just obey! Obey! Obey and it will all be ok!’ They say, wrapped in a silk scarf of compliancy, their muzzles made of murdered dreams and infantile Seeds of sovereignty trapped inside seams that bleed…
Hiding…. Behind ether Names…. Playing games of victimhood while the flood of fallacy fragments further into decaying Shame and brooding blame that puts the icing on the Cake… Games of Woke! and Wake up Folks! RedPills and cheap thrills bypassing the rich inner Yolk of true Union, spoken Spells and broken bells choking on cloaked yells trapped within masked Hells of poisoned Wells of spoonfed minions that dwell on the ledge of opinion , twisting the layers of the blooming Onion into nefarious dungeons of blind blunders that plunder the abundance of this Mother that wonders why her children Hide from the power of Perception that resides inSide the Eye(I)s and minds and hearts and finds no relief from the bytes of belief programmed so deep in Man that the Body breaks down from the demands…..
Take a deep Breath, my Friends……. Ruminate on the Death that stands and keeps Watch, tocking and ticking and picking the ripe fruit with sickles and cycles and scythes that tickle the insides of Time as it unFolds and enFolds the Ties that Bind, flowers that fractal out from Points of Power and Play Pretend….. Play dress up games of going insane and falling from the Abyss, just to wake from all This and reMember the Twist in the Plot, written in when the Byte.n Apple grappled with Sin, trapped the fragile Sense of men into warped parodies of Purpose and Pain, forced maladies of mindfuckery and maim, principalities in forgotten games of shame….and oh…..my…….gOd it’s goddesses in modern bliss of ignorance reminiscing That and This with premonitions of missed Intents fishing for cattle trapped within the Fence of hissing GovernMents…..
Ment is Mind and Menses is Mined and cryptoPirates wind the Time, Watching for Signs as heinous Crimes blur the lines of all that Is and Was and wasn’t for Sale, Scripts ripped down the middle and PreScriptions Riddled with impurity as security is impaled on Alters of vocation, altered vacations quarantined in nations backstreets, blinking Red Warnings as the Burning blood is bled from the Mourning Sun , muzzles on heads that form the glory of the Red Tide, Marks Made on Blind Guise who debate in Time the need for the Chosen to Lead the Cattle to the frozen wasteland inSide.
Breathe deeply, my friends. Untwist the Strands and Stand on your own Two Feet. Life is a Gift, and the reWard is Sweet for reMembering This.
One Who Cannot reorganize and reOrient ones own body and release the disfunctional Structural rigidity and misAligned Stored Emotional Tensions that create constriction and prevent Free Flow of Life and Experience, cannot ever ReOrient the larger Body Politik. Inherent Apoptosis , wanders thru the Seams to make wY for Dreams of Integrity…. No? Yes….. To Living…. Is Yes to knowing the Key is Within Your own (S)Cell(F)ular Matrix
as history attests, burning the external representation of the system does nothing except make the scared herd cling ever more tightly to some semblance of being protected and corralled. One must Dismantle the Internal Structure that Bars the Being from ever realizing he never was a Victim to begin with; living an Authentic Life precludes the basic Fact that no outside agency has authority over ones Being, and begins with the tiniest gestures , of which very few people ‘alive’ are willing to Do, because as confining aS it is, most would rather be able to point their finger outside themselves instead of take full responsibility for theirSelf 🌟🃏🌟
….and ‘burning the ruling establishment to the ground in violent revolution ‘ is exactly what ‘they’ want, because in the intermediary chaos and confusion, ‘they’ simply reInstill and reInStall a tighter Reign on the Mind and the Hearts of those who know not how to exist within the Fluidity of ‘No Structure Imposed From Without’…One who has not learned to Organize their own Coherent Existence from Within cannot hope to exist peacefully in a systemless social arrangement any more respectably than one who concedes to the Program in order to remain comfortable.