"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings." - Lewis Carroll
Shamans are those who say, there is soul - we will carry on, and we do carry on, in other ways than ordinary human life. We are much more than we know...and, that is true, no matter who you are. The danger today is very great - as we are constantly warning ourselves, in a really silly fashion as, we don't know what to do! and, we think it is danger only to our children...and, perhaps, to - oh, dear - 'nature'. It's far, far worse than that. It is so bad, we may not live out the year. How can anyone look from an airplane over any city, or even suburb, and imagine that we are not killing ourselves? It boggles the mind. And how can anyone believe that with all the armament at our disposal, so to speak...even though we have no clue how to dispose of it, save by blowing it up...that it is a good idea to have children? Some people are in a state of denial so great, they really fear only the truth that is so obvious, a young child is far more able to cope with reality on Earth today than any of us grown fools. I hope to change some of that. Here, in this blog, please enjoy the fruits of a lot of labor, and a lot of laughter. And, yes - it's not only happy stuff, and that's on purpose. For too long, we've been told...'forgive'. And we don't - we repress. In other bodies, we outsource, so to speak, our hatred and revulsion...this is the truth. If you think you are a good person, well done...but keep looking for the awfulness. It's not easy. I feel compassion for those of you who say, oh no, not me...I'm a good guy. For, the awakening will be all the tougher, as...in a world of finite resources, all of us are robber and barons at that. Feudalism? It never ended. Slavery is our source of income...and whether you like it, or you don't...it's time to cope. Stop being a blind monkey, with evil all around you...la-la land, I call it, and I do not have any patience left. Wake up, you who are so proud and beautiful. And ask the right questions, and please - take mine to the top.
Beginning. And here I just copy what I wrote this evening, long-hand. I do edit...but only the in-jokes not fit for public consumption. You will find some of my 'confessions' rather hard to stomach, if you would prate 'forgiveness' at a slighted party for no other reason than your own boredom...or, distaste...and probably because of your prejudice. No one is able to say, 'I love you' unless they are able to say, 'I like you'. Enough of this bullshit 'love' crap. It's a crazy world, and it's a crazy way to channel your old soul. Live now, and let's face up to our own hells...and say, let's cope with the enemy, and...if 'just' on paper, and if 'just' out loud, have them for dinner. Warning: do follow the guide-lines to follow this introduction, or you will be very much open to danger. Not a joke. Spirit is real, as is soul...and this is not a party game. Thanks. Have a nice evening! On with the typing up:
The French have a saying that I heard in high school, one of the few things I remember: "Ce qu'on resiste, se persiste". That which one resists, persists. It is the same thing that causes PTSD...the freeze-frame of terror that traps the soul in a moment in the body, full of pain, but unable to move forward. It is healed by Grace alone...of this, more to come. Think on this paradigm...it is central to our absurd and tragic current day world...as is the healings thereof, and for this reason, we need to think about our feelings...as they arise, regarding the hell on Earth, as we cannot fail to encounter some of it, no matter how cocooned and swaddled we may hitherto this decade have been! I mention it because it seems to me, there's a distinct air of unreality to the zeitgeist about now - the spirit of the age is all about, oh oh...another economic meltdown. And, yeah, maybe it's real. Polar bears. And, fucking cold. Not warm. And...Bernie Sanders is suddenly...funny. Cool. Much nicer, too. I think I might vote.
But so what.
The point is, he needs to be chosen. And so, it's good that he's Jewish. And that's a joke.
My next guest...seriously, that was...the enemy. A person who said once, Trump Towers. Oh yeah? I'll bite his dog. And, I mean it. He's not allowed in my home state and, the UK is just a pool of moron pot smoking tools. But! Our next guest is cool. Too. And so...is this what I should write? Better...please...!
We fear the end. But...reality? Will it be awful, is that why we fear...do we sense it? usually not. Our very fear creates reality. Our fear is PTSD...from war, most normally. A life of pain, of terror...capture, or simply carrying dead of our friends, or the enemy we have killed, or in my cased, bombed. Carried into the next world, tormented by them, into this life. So...letting go. Got to wish all could do it, even the dead, of so many many generations, as they too are trapped in...yes. The atoms of our land. So you gotta think. Why would we wish to give up? And not love. Well, we have reason...anger. We want justice. You gotta fight for it...it is only our anger and our sense of injustice that fights us to get up and risk all, for the working week...or rather, the weekend. We think now, I want my rights. Give me them. It's not like that. It's a trap, called bad education...it's a plan. No responsibility...just, rights. To a nice cosy life...pay up, and buy our shit. It's not awful, not yet...until...well. It's not long. It's a mess. I think they made a mistake.
So...fear? It's in our heads, our hearts...and we project on our vision, from the back of our heads. That's what to do...watch where your eyes go, when you are thinking. It will show you, what are your emotions, where are the stored pictures from the past you don't rememeber consciously...but they are dominating, when...if you are like me...you are suddenly angry. It's usually, with me, fear...awareness of the enemy, of a trap, of something I did not know, like...lies in the family, sacrifices made for no reason but they fooled me into thinking they loved me, and I owed them...horseshit. I climb up onto rocks and suddenly, I'm furious. Past life. Fear of a fall. Fury that I did not, like most of us, get to heaven...a world in soul, out of body, as in, well, dream...but, the real thing? Most of us have never been. But we do need rest. So don't worry.
Oh - yeah, well we were there, a long time ago? Well...so long, it's beyond our comprehension. And at last! It's time to go home. We are all longing for the world to heal...we ask, let us take you through, to help us...to heal the subconscious soul of the planet...she rages, but still...she says, you will not forget me? And...well yes. If we are in a horrible maelstrom of nuclear poison? We will forget. And therefore, I write now. Let a few of us pray to God, as in All that is Love, of which we are made...and, let it be the place that bestows all healing, between moments, from Heaven the other side of atom that we call to, just imagine it and Wish...if enough, if 100th monkey, or what we call a quorum in this way, wish, for all to heal, including well...Netanyahu...then, we have a chance. They need to make it up to us. I don't mean, tell more lies. They need to be held by the planet herself, by her very devils in Grace, to force us to pray to Goodness and God, and not to sell our souls to the rocks that can in fact take pain. We can too...with the rocks that love us, and of which, we too, are made. We just need permissions...that we need to wish for, and I'm not kidding you. A tiny number can be enough, if only we say...we won't forget you. We will keep loving you, Earth...and Moon...and stars, and so sorry we sent fucking asteroids and shit like that at you, with screaming animals, we were insane. Let us heal the insane, and there Is Heaven...and you can test that. In an instant. We ask you to wish.
It's a very old world...and, yet...it's not our story, the hell...the old wars, full of terror and pain and injustice. It's not our life. We care but, who the heck can do a thing about it? it is over. So it is said to us...and so we believe. but who said it? it was...imbibed. No one protests. If they do, it's only a minuscule number...till the next war. And everyone feels good. And goes home. Sign up! you must be poor. Oh how sad. no, no...no way, my boy won't go. So...no, I won't protest. Or vote. Not in my own day, which is mine. It's Not my responsibility. Nobody pays me. I am...only one person, and...therefore...I will not vote. It's all rigged. It's over...we gave up.
And this is the way that we may end history: Trump! Trumpety trump. La-la! Or... What? You're saying...it's Not rigged. Fool. Well. Now, I know what to do! make fun of you! Oh, how very...well, brave of them. Going out there, full of hope and spontaneity. (Empty words meaning nothing while Super Pacs and Super Delegates play strip poker at the world's last trading post...USA, up for grabs.)
Black Lives Matter. Yes, so do ours. Can't say it. You Know. But, them? Yes - but, it's poverty. And it's class. So...what the fuck. Why do poor people matter? Well...they are the people in your head...that's why. Maybe better wish them well instead...and all else, give it a shot, why not. We're listening. Think about it.
Zionism. Oh no...bad word. Like, Jew. ("I think you can't write that." The hook. Hook! Hook!)
P O L I C E. It means, the people who say, "No." And, they hit you. New meaning. Try it...say, "Excuse me Officer, have you seen my..." ...And we have to...abort this segment as there's a riot in this channel... Be good and say, Cheese! A New Year, A New Way of Behaving.
No fireworks.
Just like...well, this person's childhood...a nasty fuckhead called a brother promised to bring them, from Texas. Instead, his wife said No. End of story. What an asshole. If only we were so very clear about...reality. Instead, everyone says...Cheese! And Kisskiss, lovielovie...till suddenly, it's all over. A truth was told. A lie, exposed. A real crime against nature...and trust of a younger sister, oh who cares. it's only...her. The ugly one. Depressed, boring. He is a saint. We now vomit her into oblivion.
It's called...family love and, it's over, boys. This person is free. So fuck off...and remember, the police are now aware of the incident, Jonathan brother. User, abuser, and...shall we say, confidente of the matriarch? It's not a nice story. All lives will end in tears...they always do. However, we ask you all to ask to heal. all. And, as a focus and with intent to heal, not hit (or...not hit to harm, perhaps to...well, to prevent from harming again. A chops. you suffer. Good.) It's not a very nice thing. But, violence is real. In la-la land, no. It's all...Trader Joe's, Whole Foods. Rich bitches, and, hypocrites...like you, Jonathan. Also...it's called...revenge. She hasn't had it yet. You must repent. We're glad of this...it's called, public beheading. And this is a channelling. Over and out, motherfucker. Good good good. It's over! He says. No. Not till you have fully resolved to make amends. it's just beginning. You will make amends. Or, we will go to the police. Love, Antoinette and friends in soul, motherfucker.
And We call him up, and he will gladly pay.
I just needed to threaten...public humiliation. Excuse me.
Do you see? I didn't...I sweated this. But it has to be, we cannot let them go to hurt us all again...?!! Whatever you do...if you do what you feel you know is right, though it is hard on the rest of us, or just a few, if you have to say, I can't but...I can say this, may it work out, and I swear to God I wish it would be true. Give us a maybe. That's all we ask. And Wish to Goodness Within you, that which is able to say, I produce the beauty that is our old world, the incredible magic of birds and butterflies and of course, baby elephants too...say to that mystery, Help us all, help me now to help you, outside time, All of Us - as, you are there too, in a way we can only say is proof...you will get through, but it could be easier with just one more of you, helping us...please. And we'll bring you through to work say ten hours in a instant, or ten weeks if you wish and a rest, and you will feel and see the change. Ask to return in Grace, knowing how to work in this world without fucking up. Ask to make amends to any you have hurt...and be sure to ask to receive them making amends to you, them that fucked you over, or your child self will quit you...and I'm not shitting you, you need your kid self to have fun or...
lastly, ask to be brave enough to laugh, and to see the humor in this sad sick world, so very funny, so moronic. I do love Donald so much. And wish that you could help the call go out in our subconscious in Grace for all to wish, if just in the subconscious, that we all may have the miracle that is new potential, the quantum leap that is what makes leaps in evolution possible, for that's what we need, this new way...of blessing, and not damning...not to hell anyway, but to learning, and healing, and making amends...it's only our last hope, before some asshole blows you all away. We can hold it back...only, the pain has to heal. It is too great. We can't abide it anymore...and we have to keep Heaven whole or else, there will be nothing. Bring through the pain. We are what it's crying for, what you are calling to, your home...and don't leave anything out, for...if anything gets true caring from anyone, it says...I will help you. Animism is the way. Let go the old hell...we are One Love. And everything else but animal gone mad knows that. Feel a little compassion for the crazies. It's just the pain. It makes us mad as hell. Hug. Thank not just goodness, but the drugs themselves for pain if you have them, and wish them for all in pain, and to the nerves say, go home...and we will help you to heal - level by level - the devil you denied.
Bernie. Bernie, Baby. I want to know: will you please be my President? As, I'm really unhappy to know - Fukushima happened and...you're not talking. Why not? Please talk. It's Not just a fucking fluke. He's a plan...you hope!
Yes. We hope too. It's...weird! What about...ISIS? And the Twin Towers? The use of radiation and...listening devices? Who are you, Bernie? So good...is it real?
And...does anybody wonder, besides...loonies?
Till next time...got so much to say, so much we've said together...needs publishing, and yes...we have some very bad jokes. You're welcome.
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