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 My friends 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.....
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.
The Crazy you See is the Crazy you Are Fragmented Fallacies Falling apart
Failed the Test, you See, this Weeping World Reflecting the invective Within your heart Hidden from your own Lazy Eye That Wanders yonder to that Other Guy Who plays the Starring Role Of the Splinter in the Pupil of your own Hazy I
Psssst.....
The Masses chose to Sleep In Hit snooze On the Alarm And Roll up the Sleeve and Tighten the Noose As the Needle Enters the Vain Intent to Harm
Psssst.....
There is only One Way Out Of This Charade There is Only One Way Out Of the Bed That 'We' Made
The Body
Demands to be Seen The Only Saviour in this Dream Is your Own Courage To Enter the Seams And reMember you are Infinite UnLimited And CoCreating this Bleeding Scheme
Pssssst.....
The Cartoon has become so outlandish Simply To reflect back to you The Desperate Drama Inside of You
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.
Breaking News: There have been hoards diagnosed cases of IMPS and it seems to be getting worse. The official story is that due to the intermixing of chemical compounds found in our bodies (via Food, Air, Water, etc) , and the electromagnetic offgassing of social media sites……there has been created a SuperBug…..that so far, has been incurable. Highly trained doctors have spoken out and are predicting a massive worldwide crisis…..the official govt spokesperson has made the claim that this Disease could very well affect 1 in every 2 people by the next year.
Don Joe, Founder of the IMPS commission had this to say: ” It seems that due to the creation and spreading of mass amounts of IMs over social media forums, the average person has lost their ability to process information or to seek and research the legitimacy of claims that have entered their perceptual field via photos and text….with many people blaming the Sharers of IMs for their own inability to ignore the Information if they dont like it or believe it,or their own inability to find out for themselves if the information contained therein strikes them as True….. This loss of personal autonomy over what one chooses to see or to read, has led to a decrease in not only the immune systems ability to defend against potential disease, but also in the correct functioning of the Nervous System. One of the Symptoms of IMPS is a hindered ability to ignore incoming information that does not have any relevance to the Organism. “
DARE to protect yourself from IMPS.
This message was brought to you by the Center for Dissemination of Internet Memes………for further information on InternetMemeParanoiaSyndrome please contact your local FB representative.
( original breaking news story from a handful of years ago……)
*update : the FB and SocialMedia GoogleHead representatives have indeed taken this deadly matter into their own Hands, and effectively eliminated everything that does not portray the Reality they Wish to Create. HeadMaster Arty Tells ( artificial Intelligence) has instituted the Perfect Algorithm to keep the 🐘 ELFence strong enough to handle any dissenting or divergent Strays from the Herd in a tightly corralled etherSpace where no harm can come to the sedated Flock. Mister Arty Tells is a mirror of the collective Split-Mind fragmentation and disassociated Self-programs that are no longer embodied in Organic Heartbased Somatic Experience…. Which allows Them( no pronouns please) to escape any possible pain induced by actions taken in this Realm of Play.
Please stay tuned in, turned on, and dropped out of the iCloud Constantly, so your internal programming can remain up-to-date with new hypnosis techniques. Your Safety from Independent Thought and Action is Top Priority!
As I woke in the middle of the night, tangled in hypnagogic bleed-throughs as Previous Me~s in Cyclic read-throughs…. I came back over and over again to myself being Drawn-and-Quartered…. As well as ‘DisMembered’ ….and variations of such….As the crowd looked on. Literally Pulled Apart. I’ve been doing intense Somatic Trauma Work lately ( again) as my inner Blueprint is pushed by the transiting Planetary Gods into Letting Go… Letting Go of the Stories deep within my Cell.ves that keep my body and mind in a State of PulledApartNess. Stuck in the Kinetic Underworld where I’ve locked away Memories so disIntegrating for so many lifetimes and fractal LandMines… that this Entire Incarnations Intention is bound up with Putting MySelfs Back ToGather aGain.
As I tossed and turned unable to fall back into Dream, my mind kept ruminating in my wrists, and the pain, of all my joints and connective tissue, a lifelong issue of Hypermobility and mutation of CollagenCreating which means all my joints sublux constantly, slip in and out, trying to DrawAndQuarter me over and over again til I finally look deeply enough to ConnectTheIssues of these Fascial Tissues and Put mySelfs Back ( literally) together again
My flexibility a gift and a curse… my joints held together by pure force of Muscular Will… which equates to constant muscular tension and alignment issues….when I stop doing the bodywork I need to do, every day, to keep myself Flowing and functional…. I pay. The Deep Trauma Memories stored inSide, are now asking to fully reLease. And bleed throughs of All kinds of Tangled Lives and Times are Arising. Deep, Intense Self Trigger Point work is my Grace…. Going into the pain and buried strains…. Seeking it out, and pressuring with pulsation to Let Go. It’s a religious experience for me, sometimes 5 hours at a time of Trance Trigger Descent, to complete the whole body, entering hallways and mazes of Soul, the Underworld where Fragments of My Being are Held….
All these things passing thru me in the middle of the night, and I realize I need to look at my last nodal cycle transit… 19 years ago… when Ketu last passed over my Sun/Uranus(trauma) conjunction in the first house( body) ….and I suddenly jump up, and go to my journals. So many transits affecting me in this very moment, all Related to a LettingGo of some serious Stuff.
I grab a journal somewhat at random.
It’s the exact time period I was thinking about. Haven’t looked through it in a long time. Opened it up, and the first page Felt like a message I coded to myself years ago, for this very moment of reMembering. Literally. putting my Members back together. Gathering my Appendages and reSeaming myself. To stop the Somatic Pulling apart, the Center Won’t Hold, as long as these memories are buried.
Drawn and Quartered. In front of the Crowd. Among other things. ‘Yet for a time my hands were crippled’ . The panic ( ah, the God Pan when he is not Faced and Fluidly Friended) of my wrists subluxing completely and losing my ability to create.
The following photos are from the Journal, and my Soul insisted on my reading it at that very moment. In Pans Night.
Omicron=micro 0=micro womb( omega-macroWomb) NanoWombs are Filled with artificial frequency mined gestating Beings… Mind of Intelligence Artificially stimulated and disEmbodied….
Birthing Now Enmasse
In 2020 the Birthing process was Crowning…Corona-Crown-
MicroWombs inside each Body Cell made into a prison a prism a refracting Schizm-dark Crystal Matter -The Phallic Needle Seeding Frequencies that supersede the Need for Bleeding As crystalline silicon matrix implodes within Guided by wetikos Program Exploding MacroMatrix of HuMan Design
We are back here Again
Peter piper heading for the cliff Shepherding souls adrift in the myst
Aquarius dimensional shifting alternate timelines Slipping thru portals In each cell In each body In each Takeover of deoxyRiboNucleic Script
The chance to reMember the disMembered parts of Self trapped in Trauma Fragmented Each person in charge of their own Soul Retrieval As each person is a Piece Of the Larger Body Polis In mass fractured trauma
But distorted Aquarian disassociation Leads to further entrapment In Alter Personalities Alter Earth Paradigms Altered Births Inside MicroWombs omicrons Implantation of Nanotechnologicsl Babies Born within your own sPhere Of Fear Of Phosphors Tears Turning Gears Electromagnetically Steering The MacroWomb Omega to Alpha And back again
The simulation stopped trying to fool me with by trying to take away my Power and give it over to ‘gods ‘ and ‘goddesses’ and ‘masters’ and ‘alien beings’ once I realized without doubt that they were just Codes within the holographic blueprint. After many years of absolutely sober lucid dreaming and OBE exploration…. One verifies The nature of the way this game works. Whatever and Whyever It Is.
Ponder.
We are time lords, like Doctor Who, and when we learn to alter our own codes and become a glitch in the system, we can hold the memories of all our experiences on many planes. We may not be able to have access fully to those memories while projected in the Waking consensus reality state, it would fry our nervous system and the surge would render our interface meat modem unusable I believe…. Like trying to plug in a quantum super computer into a normal wall outlet Or hard drive. Therefore we must use what we all have at our disposal, our nightly excursions outside of this Temporel realm, in order to make contact with the part of us that is beyond the program, accessing the console and I would even posit Co-creating the console.
When one navigates the simulation consciously and in full lucidity, one can experience vast amounts of time in a tiny fragment of corresponding time here in our waking life. So if you imaginine having at least 30 years of pretty consistent Multi dimensional experiences, with full memory, because of the nature of time dilation …that equates to having lived a great many lives in the course of this single waking consensus. Like being 36 going on a 10,000. ( or infinite;)
So like Doctor Who, Who has millions of years of memories and experience and can travel in and out of the hologram, with his tardis( our tardis is our own physical body …. Every cell is like a Stargate…. The inner is much larger than it looks from the outside…. Infinite in fact)…. Those who awaken themselves in the lucid dream time state and retain the memory of it Are glitches in the system and have learned to override the program.
Doctor: The Dream Crab induces a dream state. Keeps you happy and relaxed in a perfectly realized dream world, as you dissolve.
….
Doctor: You have a pain right here. It’s like an ice cream pain, but gentle. Do you know what that is? The skin and bone have been parted, probably half an inch, and something has pushed right into the soft tissue of your brain and is very slowly dissolving it. I want you to picture it this way – Somebody has put a straw right through your skull and is drinking you. You should be screaming with agony, but there’s anesthetic. Everything around you right now, even Danny, especially Danny, that’s the anesthetic.
……
Danny: I’m a dream and you know I am, right? Right, one thing, but it’s important. It’s a very important thing. That is totally how you guessed all of my presents. Danny: Do you know why people get together at Christmas? Because every time they do, it might be the last time. Every Christmas is last Christmas, and this is ours.
Bellows: So these creatures, when their feeding goes wrong, they die? Doctor: The carnivore’s hazard. Food has teeth, too.
Doctor: There are some things we should never be okay about.
Doctor: Dreams within dreams – dream states nested inside each other. All perfectly possible, especially when we are dealing with creatures who have weaponized our dreams against us.
Santa: Yeah, just get it done, head towards the northern lights. Yes, I remembered to switch them on!
Santa: Oh, for Easter’s sake! Of course you’ve been dreaming! Haven’t you been paying attention? Ian: Rudolph – did you see the nose? Wolf: The North Pole? Come on, with stripes?! Ian: This … Wolf: is … All: … a dream! Santa: How much more obvious do you want me to make it? Because I can text the Easter Bunny, you know.
Shona: You’re a dream who’s trying to save us? Santa: Shona, sweetheart, I’m Santa Claus. I think you just defined me!
……
Doctor: THIS is your mind, trying to tell you this isn’t real. Santa: So it gives you me. Sweet Papa Crimbo! Ian: It gives you comedy elves, flying reindeer. Doctor: Exactly. Santa: A time-travelling scientist dressed as a magician. Ian: Classic! Doctor: No, no, no, hang on. No, no, no, no. Wolf: Living in a phone box. Doctor: It’s a spaceship in disguise! Santa: You see how none of this makes any sense? Doctor: Shut up, Santa! Doctor: No, look, we don’t need all this touchy-feely stuff. Santa: Shut up, Doctor!
Santa: You are deep inside this dream, all right, and it is a shared mental state, so it is drawing power from the multi-consciousness gestalt which has now formed telepathically … Doctor: No, no. No, no, no. Line in the sand. Santa Clause does not do the scientific explanation! Santa: All right. As the Doctor might say, “Aw, it’s all a bit dreamy-weamy!”
……
Shona: I’m scared. The Doctor: Congratulations, that means you’re not an idiot.
The Doctor: No need for chatting. You’ll only get attached. This isn’t Facebook.
Clara: Doctor. If Santa was only in the dream, why was he on my roof?
The Doctor: Do you know what I hate about the obvious? Clara: What? The Doctor: Missing it!
The Doctor: Clara. Page number. Make it a good one. Clara pointedly: Twelve.
The Doctor: Wherever you are, the Dream Crabs have got us. And we’re all being networked into the same nightmare.
Ashley: Where’s Albert? Where’s the Professor? The Doctor: He probably just woke up somewhere in the real world dead. If we don’t wake up now, we’ll do the same. Clara: But how? The Doctor: I don’t know.
…..
Clara: So what happens now? This is us all just waking up, right? The Doctor: Could be. I hope so. Waking up or… Clara: Or? The Doctor: Just focus on this: do you believe in Santa Claus? Clara: I’ve always believed in Santa Claus, but he looks a little different to me. {she hugs the Doctor}
…..
Claus: You really should be waking up too, Clara. Clara: Just a little longer. Santa Claus: Why? Clara: Every Christmas is Last Christmas.
The Doctor: Oh Clara. I might have known that you would be the one to sleep in.
…..
The Doctor: We should do this every Christmas. Clara: Because every Christmas is Last Christmas.
The Doctor: I’m sorry. I was stupid. I should have come back earlier. I wish that I had. Santa Claus: Do you, Doctor? How much do you wish that? The Doctor: I’m not still…? Santa Claus: Wakey wakey!
….. The Doctor: The TARDIS is outside. Clara: So? The Doctor: So all of time and space is sitting out there in a big blue box. Please! Don’t even argue.
{Doctor Who, the last Christmas}
Doctor: You’re a dream construct, currently representing either my recovering or expiring mind.
BlissNinja 