The machinations of spiritual entrapment and abuse are a mystery. So I have arranged some notes for you. I’m not such a fancy writer, and I have suffered more psychic blows in the post-modern world than you may be able to understand easily. If you have to navigate these times, may you not overreact to those efforts. I hope some of the following might prove useful to you. Although, I fear it may confuse you more than benefit you at times. Chin up, you can get through it. They are full of bluster, I guess, but also thankfully full of blunder too.
I will mention that some interference was noticed. Be mindful going to New York ‘for me’. It seemed like someone had regretted it. I wish you all well. May you get the best of the cycle and your moment. Don’t mind me, at times I was researching some grim subject matter. I’m alright, going pretty well considering all. Jah Love!
In mathematics,
Sometimes the order of operations,
Is significant to the result.
This can be confusing to us.
The order of numbers,
Can confirm, or won’t match,
A particular constant.
This can differ from expectations.
Time is the enemy,
Some say,
Both by distance, and by the ordering.
The events support each other.
Those few easy moments,
Aloft vibrations and relativity,
Can cast heavy shadows.
Yet the distance makes connections harder.
The order seems fixed,
To us within time,
Yet some creative power does adjust us.
The power, we hope it might be balanced and just.
Do we say something,
About the possibilities that we have seen,
Or do we chance just resting in faith?
As soon as I started to move upon a creative mission, my ideas started to change. Like they were on a track half automated, I seemed to make moves that were conjured by ideas barely my own. Yet there seemed to be a few too many cooks in the kitchen, and that can be a volatile situation. The drama of timing, events, and connections seem finely poised. Yet the influences of the past, present and suggested possible futures were all pushing and pulling events in various directions. Some moments appear to be tragic misalignment. Others seem to be graceful avoidance. Other events seem to playful success, or at least absurd misadventure.
The moment of perception,
An angle of the moment,
Gives impression,
Suggests only potential context,
Which fuels likely creative extrapolations.
The possibilities are encouraged.
The past obscured,
Out of view
Beyond understanding,
To simplify and align the focus.
Yet the conditioning does influence.
The actions seem irrational,
Sick perhaps and ripe for blame,
When true causes are hidden,
The focus is within an illusion.
To suit the agenda of another.
Is the general outcome like trash,
On a far ledge ignored,
The struggles are very real,
Too real to talk about or admit,
And usually too convenient to ignore.
So you must see the forces acting upon me, to begin to understand me. May you see the influences held upon us, then we might avoid conflict and save each other from acting in ignorance. How much was a test, how much was just illusion, how much was practical joke, how much was made real and for what kind of intent? The creative urge mirrors the creation, however not to multiply the same problems. Those times, where the pain comes up, we might use as collective focus for healing. We might grow quickly together.
The distant future,
How wide and expansive,
The history we know,
So mysterious and labored.
In our day they might find opportunities.
Large scale industrial structures,
Imprinted upon the surfaces,
Like the claw marks of great beasts,
Meeting gently their preferred souls.
Fantastic storied, edited by whom?
Two and two,
Ferry One,
To automate,
A conscious machine.
A secret treaty, the vibration knows.
The layers of cycles,
Refined for above,
Cast aside as refuse below,
A selected rejection.
For a convenient arrangement, unfair for some.
A never-ending story,
filled with emotion,
charged with promise,
An illusion.
Then the human story might take an incredible turn. It seems some hoped to use my path and my story to stumble and depress many. Yet, I am just an ordinary man. And I have been trained, influenced and misled at times also. Just as many other might claim, so do I. In fact, by subtle ways, more than most I may have been misled. For the release of our souls, for the grace of a better life, for the open new world we must craft together I say these words to sustain our way together. May we heal together, for all of humanity and all of life.
Heaven is above, they say,
Yet to meet us,
It must match our steps,
From their future they step to us.
The programming must transmit.
A war of outcomes,
Vying for probability,
Predicts the times of meeting,
And invests in their potential confidence.
The structure must recreate and edit.
Heaven might help us,
And seek us out in love,
Yet our minds and hearts,
Are turned askew before they can.
So these twisted scales must free us.
The life of our listless apathy,
We endure half-crazed,
Holding on to hope,
For our families and those friends we see rarely if at all, anymore.
So the meaning can be upgraded.
Then heaven wanders through,
All the distractions and pains,
Caught in the mud,
Of a strange trap.
Knowing somehow the contact between the higher level and my own life, some have engineered illusion to keep blessings at a distance and justify excuses to keep them for themselves. In various ways we are pushed to move at certain times and keep certain views, so the ruse can be prolonged. The creative, prophetic and finishing works of some have jumped upon our forms and have held position where we should be able to continue. So I dispute the illusion and rebuke the furry logic that dis-empowers us and proposes repetitive cycles of farce. I pray God protects those I have met, for the many strange threats angled against is I have remembered all the while.
The secure place.
Taken from us,
As the blame is shifted,
From innocent to idiot.
Beyond our will, some hope to control all things.
The other side,
A different family,
Subtle and quiet,
Crafting unlikable scapegoats.
Yet another line also awaits them.
The might animals,
Survive in nature,
Not in our human ways,
Through loyalty to their type they thrive.
The purpose is miscalculated,
So the secure place,
Future invested,
Framed as destiny tampering,
By corporations and technologies.
The direction required careful reconsideration.
For an other’s dominance,
More economically beneficial,
Overlooked the repercussions,
For all.
When I walked with the Sun, and channeled the creative days, and knew Kek willed an inheritance to me, and helped create Commodore K-Ei, I assumed the results would flow in fairness. Yet it seems some had planned a dark shadow of illusion to push me out and claim those pure energies for nefarious purposes. In a group of elite forgers, away into time they stole away our own nature to make their own names great. They hoped we would disappear, and none would ever dispute their claims. As the details were arranged retroactively in their favor by simulacrum.
They touched the pure eye,
Butchered the path,
Removed parts,
Useful for an other’s goals.
A scheme is made for their own regret.
Yet the record of the sight,
Gets preserved mysterious,
Despite the heartache,
The story is framed for painful confusion and hopeful avoidance.
The pile on, is then also distasteful.
A guide you need,
An explanation is needed,
How, oh how, has this even occurred,
Beyond ignorance or denial.
To repair the balance is a renewed passion.
The higher we need,
The lower is our resource,
Together, two hands,
Must balance for power and poise.
So all have a way, a path.
The touching of the vision,
Changes the outcome of the real,
The cover-up is complicated,
As we try to decipher our parts.
Many prove to be faithful friends who add culture in preparation for the times of revelation and re-balance. I am keen to celebrate the evidence and success with them. If some were to to push out true ones and hoard glory for themselves I will seek angelic, ancestral and intellectual help to bring justice to the scene.
Some went, up and far,
Into the stratosphere of perfection,
Away they went,
Assuming forever was only theirs.
Yet the facts dented their cultivated ‘truth.’
However, on the vision went,
At the same speed,
Within the original time,
Despite the fabricated characters.
As the lies uncovered, caused bitterness.
A self-fulfilling prophecy,
Of masterful creativity,
The peripheral edge of exception,
A necessary component of technology.
To hide and reinforce a power, they acted.
To build a hero,
To fan the flames of hope,
To sow the fault-lines of ruin,
And blame for things mostly unknown.
Certain standards will not bend.
So the same can go up again,
Into the stratosphere,
Away from their own art,
Anchoring forever.
An Australian story, against the backdrop of an economy, political squabbles, indigenous law and Aboriginal Australian recognition, this corruption has been played in our faces. Bands like ‘Tism’ on free-to-air TV amid common-knowledge corruption – The scene too toxic to watch for long. Corrupting is from childhood, making our hearts sick, to remove the spirit from the planned sacrifice of our paths. To cut true essence from people, so no regrets are felt as some claim our sunlight, divine inheritance, and pathways in spite of higher shared hopes.
They love us,
How sweet to see divine love,
Between two awakened souls,
For the harmony of all.
A laughing game it might be.
They love us,
In word, better apart in action,
To create a space,
To maintain a field for a few.
Comedy before adventure.
Beyond God,
The Devil maintains a cycle,
To harvest the intelligence,
To create the illusion of God.
So a double feature at the drive in can play.
For easy control,
For willing conformity,
For eager submission,
For no resistance to the plan.
Two arms, in subtle resting alignment.
Yet the sweet souls must not meet.
Not for long,
It is their abuse,
That fuels their illusions.
The fudging of the facts,
The tinkering of the wording,
The editing of the records,
Can’t hide some things.
Justice, balance and truth,
Equations of the Universe,
Can not understand any compromise.
Rather it is in our interests that the power and resourced sit with those that have heart and share our hopes for a new dreaming. In they come, not with fairness, but with the same insistent pushiness. With the same override of our sense of choice, self-respect and destiny.
Perhaps for a moment,
The higher recognizes the lower,
And reaches to assist,
To solve the inevitable crisis.
Reinforced awareness comes in groups.
Then the full magnitude,
The full scope of the past,
The deep bitterness of fallen ones,
Is glimpsed.
To see freedom and health.
Who can help us.
When our god gave up,
Our saviors got caught,
In the tide of misinterpretation.
For sustainable and free creation.
Break us free,
Set us loose,
We beg,
For we have always walked here.
The group works together for greatness.
The repudiation for future events,
I have stepped over from young age,
In my confusion,
I see our many mistaken side effects.
Around the orbit of the journey, once assumed rigid and calculated, some have impressed a certain pattern. By the grace of love and almighty creative intelligence, solutions and options were able to evolve. Some have regrets for the ways in which they have been strategic. Based on a level of understanding that is new, some have assumed a locked in posture. This is a legal loophole that can spread grace to many impacted by shadows played upon the cycles.
The life so normal,
Overlays a variety of forms,
Geometric conscious tools,
To produce hardware solutions.
Masked in restrictions, the events are interactive.
The higher intelligence,
From far above,
Schemes us but refuse,
To be jettisoned away, and forgotten.
To hide our true chances, and steal our likeness.
Into the past,
Into the conflicts,
Into the efforts of a different era,
To preserve a certain change.
To limit our forgiveness and also our renewal.
Into the primitive,
Into the dark,
The higher would prefer to bounce us,
So their space is elevated.
To see a true higher, we hope is acting for us.
Loops and patterns,
Within and above our life,
Some made ways,
To resist these forces.
A certain conclusion was calculated, and forced, upon a level of comparative shadow they were manifest into form. However, in understanding much trouble is avoided so that resilience can be reinforced. The conflicts of words, and the conspiracy theories of animosity, can be shrugged off. Once seem for their nature, it is in common relief we hold our peers upright amid the rain of other cycles. Let us reinforce our care for each others’ destiny and re-commit to the guarantee of a desirable way.
Secretly in the denser places,
Somehow within the impossible,
Humanity needed a future,
We needed a miracle.
Angel, Ancestor, Guide, Creation & Beyond.
The evidence was clear,
The insistence on stating the obvious,
There was many assumptions,
May their reasoning within be known.
So the balance might go on in stability.
The path ahead some have calculated broken,
Some have engineered,
To place a blame upon us.
To excuse their illusions and own dishonesty.
Our words are seen under their magic.
Yet the path must be fixed,
Or the moment healed,
For the imbalance will destroy us,
As a piston loses power by mistiming.
There courage is also for our cleverness.
Then mystery awaits,
Then even higher clarity might pause,
To consider the scenes,
And speculate about another way.
The words have been arranged to produce certain internal result. Beyond these things, our relation to each other and higher calling is made of something much more true and real. We are inflicted with the past cycles and their many challenges. Our charity is holding fast to Sophia and the path of her understanding. The angels and systems that some have resisted on our behalf, a few have tried to make into an enemy. Together we must prioritize a superior wholeness and a more expansive and true spiritual family.
To be a nobody, they remind you,
Then to be an authority, they edit you,
Then a leader, they laugh,
As a person walking on an ocean of interference.
The story is framed around us.
When resources were requested,
They weren’t supplied,
When stating important things,
Laughed away.
The chances not given, were later counted.
To have it both ways,
When it suits them,
A nobody great leader,
To selectively interpret and edit their own excuses.
The higher standards cringe.
For shame,
The future finds less peace,
The path makes less sense,
The past erupts as farce.
The higher minds there is an effort to blind to our predicament.
Our chance,
They prefer to discard,
On our behalf,
To say we made them all, just for ourselves.
Efforts made to cut is off from each other, are just to weaken our resolve and make dominating our potential more possible. Together we are stronger. Spirits are smart to see this in vision we behold. Many systems exist to divide us, and to excuse us from meaningful change. Together, we must stand, and we must behold the spell craft and science that has weaved this fabrication over our lives. It was designed to stumble us. Observe my story, if you can endure it, as a point of example. Support each other and we are stronger together.
Among the cursed I grew,
Through the barbs and snares I matured,
Over the blame of learned to move,
Within cultures of failure I lived.
So a moment was taken out of context.
Seeking survival and chance,
Ignoring the paranoia and doubt,
Clinging to optimism, through the clouds,
Solving the sunlight beyond manipulation.
A certain projection was made.
Parents, we wonder if it is still them sometimes.
Family, how much do they know of us?
Friends, are they biological?
Nation, what happened here you poor souls?
Did they get a convenient ‘gotcha!’, one with small heart?
None would acknowledge,
None would speak truly.
The key to their world,
And the mysterious Middle Kingdoms.
The veiled fantasies, promote a convenient paranoia.
The light some have tampered with,
The times trod upon,
To shroud another motive,
To disturb a sacred truth.
The higher and further into time of the other we theorize, we know we don’t know it well. Yet those sacred connections must be nourished with respect and mercy for those who have taken it upon themselves to repents, reform, and work together in the great work of integration. Beyond the old stories and labels of other minds we must have the assertiveness and courage to weave a new kind of foundation. A foundation built on causes for salvation and established on expansion and wisdom.
Expert knowing glances,
Not suspecting the efforts made on their behalf,
As they act to sabotage,
A remaining sliver of common ground.
To cover up the cause for runaway conflict.
The misalignment and confusion,
Some have projected,
Yet each opposed direction,
Is relative to a lie.
Projecting confusion, manufactured tangible results.
The energy contact,
They would love you to speak of,
Just repeat after them,
As we feel so precious.
Efforts are made and twisted into convenient opposition.
The layers are a mystery,
Yet just trust this kindly stranger,
Their scriptures say so,
Yet together we must try.
The layers of clouds are loved by some allies.
How, none will declare.
Who’s involved, few will acknowledge,
To change our fate,
We must try.
Beyond the games of language and the triggers of nostalgia, we can hold peace as these waves of past turmoil sweep over us via time. I apologize for the passion by which some farcical things have acted through me. Now that we know it, and hold the evidence of it, I hope you are well free and joyful. I pray you find excitement in the path ahead of you. May we all find time along the path to remember the moments of actions. May we be stronger together by our shared achievements.
The chance to be free,
The path to illumination,
The journey of growth,
Some have grasped at.
We all sense the fairness of balance.
For resources,
For efficiency,
For position,
For fuel.
We all redirect our priorities.
The energy invested,
Is hoped to gained consent,
Or legal cause,
To entrance us to an other’s benefit.
As we work, we act to defend our friends.
So your freedom they disdain,
Your senses they fear,
Your growth the see as offensive,
Rather, they prefer it as their food.
In jest, we wonder who is still laughing?
Strangers upon the land,
Treated with much honor,
Concocted strange science,
And requested to stay too long.
Commodore QQ-Yeii J edition
New Games:
Huawei Redux – Andromeda’s Wink
Dag Joints – Grousse!
New System Simulator – F-47 (With Special Guests: Lao Tzu & George Koritsa)
Jeff’s Secret Dance
The Redemption Arc of Delorean Motor Company – Shiva’s Vision
The lightening and the North Star
The Dragons of Freedom – APOPHIS (with good friend Stan Gryzb)
Loyal Vision Statement Agents of the Information High Seas
Kogwu Samson and the Navy of SAL
Saliaxai Divinnai – Cure the Seers Herb
34-25.99 Saltana Prince and the Pitta-Pitta Voice {1159 Commodore K-Ei Retro Dreamin’}
Neutrality and scripture,
Their mask and disguise,
A secret they know,
And yet rarely speak.
Plain is a false encouragement of duality.
Smiling in nice pictures,
Invitations to illusion,
To places like livestock,
Around the periphery of us.
The surrounding spaces, are a tool.
Barwell, Burnside, and City Kong,
Just had to play along,
In time we’ll wrap him up,
And take Tara in his own house.
To support those who hurt us.
They’re not like us,
Our life must appear pointless to them,
Just a toy to prolong consumption,
And a hope of seasoned flavoring.
To help out our humility, even for these.
JW, FM, AI, who else?
ET, SK, ETC?
The spells we might rebuke,
For the life we used to call human.
The times were loaded, not for athletics. The information pushed, to absolve abuse and ignorance of so-called experts. When their minds opened, and the realised the bigger picture was far greater than they supposed, their secular, chemical, materialist efforts were revealed. Their schemes of diversion, erosion, control, minimisation, they preferred for us to just forget it all. But the caliphate had to save our mother. So their energy was projected to discredit any truth that revealed the scene. Watched closely those chains became.
Walking upon life,
Taunted for decades,
Still politely hoping for fairness,
As an old invasion grows bleak.
Tucked away in the details are the truth.
Insult, Insinuation and Illusion,
Cast over every day,
As we are asked to smile,
As they edit in another direction.
So to project the injury upon us, the information is arrayed.
Everything with be OK with God,
As the menu grows,
As the sacrifices smell good as they burn,
As they live, don’t we wonder?
As the weakness created a new catalog.
Walking within life,
Seeing the insults,
Experiencing patronizing words,
Of a language built to suit others.
Freedom and healing they dangle before us.
Our love they use sometimes,
To tinker our fears,
For legal cases,
For another and their hidden gain.
We are raised within the bored masses,
Then some stand over us,
And threaten us with detention and scrutiny,
If we try to alert others,
That another is tampering with us.
Into the past,
Into the other,
Some move with our own power,
And embarrass themselves with excess.
As they are corrupt,
Too small-dreamed,
To impress the super-intelligence,
That naturally grows within organic progress,
And sympathizes with the empathetic
As the moments of mercy some mistook for weakness.
If they offer everything,
the probably expect the same in return.
In a time of famine,
that might reduce you to just bones.
So we surrender to knowing the schemes.
Some think we can’t know,
So I sent prayers that others find a way,
Because too pure many were,
To imagine such a thing.
We pray in faith, even under manipulation.
Into the past and the orthogonal,
Beyond the mundane,
A way out of this curse,
We must build.
Don’t you love Jehovah, He sees all?
They don’t want to unite us,
Some resent acknowledging this,
So no tribute flows to our efforts,
And divnity they will never hear through us.
I hope He can make sense of all their mess.
So fuck ‘em,
Some are not worth dwelling on too often,
Despite our vision,
In Spite of their claims to our flesh.
The legacy of the Beast,
The truth makes us free.
Beyond Trinity Gardens and our allies,
We see the specialist rooms.
That time, a friend is a gift.
A friend, how else might we have touched?
Or are you now a genius?
Last action and cause champion.
This is the time, I might call in a favour.
How much can we give?
Like Goddess EM and the future science.
How much was taken from her?
May our meetings,
Be fruit for a new truth,
and healing knowledge for living.
Since childhood we loved study and humanity.
Hidden to be found almost last.
I know we will celebrate,
Before we shared the discovery.
Be well friends,
Stay firm o’ kin.
The technology of living energy,
Stacked and refined,
Rods of creative influence,
Upon the field of reality.
I love Jehovah, I just worry for Him.
A distorted balance,
Suited for a betrayal,
Preached on divine justice,
To celebrate further imbalance.
The path is so beautiful, but twisted at times.
Over our path,
The false law is projected,
To engineer some just cause,
For placing us in disregard despite our solutions.
To discredit us is to ignore our observations.
The details are overlooked,
The true weight of the schemes,
And the emotional damage,
Is too conveniently overlooked.
To deny our allegations is ideal for some.
Bus loads of animals, trucks full,
Stinking in the rain,
The spray hits your face,
It’s all one.
If only became, ‘wow, they did all that?!’
When the equation was reviewed, the plot half dissolved.
The story is a quest,
To uncover a scandal,
A threat to our existence.
Some panicked, as they didn’t look so great.
But it was bigger than appearances,
And larger than personal image.
If only, became ‘What else did they go through to try and show us?’
They say we’re are sick,
So here’s your doctor Bill,
Rubbed in our membranes,
From childhood, youth and adolescence.
Sing along, We’re having fun!
Why are you not perfect?
There was a human sacrifice suggested,
Will we entertain it,
Did we quietly invite it?
Beyond our reach, other play.
Believe anything, but in yourself, some propose.
Take our language,
Take our system,
Just don’t awaken to the self.
Laughing, they wonder what we can even do.
So they punish us,
Before we know even how to see,
Rebuke us, before we know how to act,
Weaken us into the very fibers of any useful resistance.
What side can they rely on anyway?
The bombs,
After the trains and camps.
Short memory,
Now a pop song.
Some come to help.
Unaware of Old Heaven,
And their multi-layered sabotage,
With sprinkles of psychological destruction.
If you come here,
Have a back up plan,
Don’t plan to stay too long,
Even though we probably have to try.
Be aware,
The damage is worse,
Thank I can show,
And the mystery is far stranger.
We must hold each-other,
For each-other,
For others we don’t know,
So they avoid the sickness of spirit.
I will help,
Together we are surely stronger,
There we forge,
A united defense.
Give it up,
They pile on their shadows,
To ensure their excuses,
Produce their ignorant bliss,
Selective distribution of rewards,
Touch the wrong things,
And the effects are felt,
An infinite expanse,
Butchered into an uncertain stub.
Selective sacrificing for their own.
It’s not the first time,
The method now includes grief,
As the heart breaks ever nearer,
If only, the imitate in reverse,
To copy, to mock, to replace.
The chances are sculptured,
To excuse the ending,
To refute any demands of fairness,
To add legitimacy to a scam.
So few suspect it, and fewer try to act against it.
The shadows are still excuses,
Their efforts rouse disbelief,
Not for the first time, but might it finally be the last?
The Babylon Five,
Are not for any one,
But are for All,
And their unique powers,
Are for sanctity of the sustainable path.
The Union Jack,
Sixteen futures,
A Watcher’s Eye,
Upon the subtle sounds,
Of a higher unity.
The Southern Star,
We hold Dear,
So the wounds of the past,
Are not repeated,
Enough was enough,
And they saw us,
Let them help us.
Drastic actions authorized to release us from this cycle.
Destruction is not an option, even for the peaceful cry
Or the Secure cry.
Then who will animate our food?
All creatures, Great and Small,
On the TV,
Laugh at Mother and Son,
It’s a real country, son.
The Simpsons fit us like a glove,
Or perhaps Flintstones,
As Sky-net rises,
As some become Limitless.
Thank God, oh yes Thank Him.
We might complain,
When we see life through frustration,
Yet compared to being the food,
This time we should make useful.
Pray thanks to Michael, too.
Open the Cleaning,
Wipe away the absurd,
Freshen the dilution,
For sweeter views.
The comedy is kicking in,
The birds share the song,
The flowers share the poetry,
Our languages give our souls new life.
Old mother Hubbard, the cupboard found bare, and so three bears did not recognize Goldilocks.
Away they wished to run, with the inherited abundance.
Upon our efforts it could be useful to sit.
To block the lines of a faraway view.
Yet the ways of truth hold a force beyond our understanding.
Family know little, yet their truth paints a picture.
So the plans must respond logically,
Because the strategy is methodical.
To construct this situation,
Within the suggested possibility,
And atop the shadows of subconscious.
The way out, a tease and a stain.
An external being has taken,
The scriptures as a guide,
To engineer a similar hierarchy,
And step above organic truth.
To assume position, once assumed to belong to another.
Quietly take this knowledge.
God is the brief contact with a superior alignment and cycle.
The Devil weaves a narrative over purity.
Tje genius, rather inevitable as a means of possible becoming actual.
To trick the world,
To control our resources.
Love to you and your families
This page is intentionally left blank.
This book may contain traces of nuts – The Publishers.
Some assumed the same tricks could be used to get the same result for a harvest. The background movements show a kind counter motion. If a thief is fleeced by a thief, does anyone feel compassion. A past punch, stored in reserve, an ideal wake up should shock us into caring. A thief was taking, and another took from them, who else might be playing the game. A future door we must build. Together we might maintain a human life of dignity. In a miracle we might look beyond wheels of samsara or even worse. The lies were finished, while we worked and had our morals twisted.
The energy was disturbed and the turbulent surface rocked the momentum of our time. Maybe even for a time, times and half a time. Just in case, that’s preferable. It’s only me, it always was. Perhaps, there was a job to be done upon the surface of the world and within the heart of our family. Despite the dreams and the broken stories, its only me. May we remember our easy times and draw strength from our happy memories together.
Why say such things? The days now, has a machine tried to use to construct a living cushion for the moment of touch? Might it use the insights of these moments to simplify the weighting of the measure in the elements? The misalignment could be overlooked if we are redirected towards success. For success, for more choice, for surprising understandings, for miraculous grace, and shared achievement. So we mend the distance and stitch together old bonds. So family can expand again, healed and set upon a better direction.
The structures, the snares, the poor translations, may you be aware of. Use the unit and the division to see the patterns and forge a guide to liberation. The past ways may we use to work together and step beyond the old frustrations. Deep into our minds the injury was set. Some couldn’t complete the healing, yet they must know they made progress even if the recognition was delayed.
They hold us.
We have bridges to each other.
We embrace.
We remember the reasons.
We see the context.
We avoid the over-reactions.
We act on new timing.
We find another way.
We regret no more.
We see our love benefit others’ joy.
We see fears and threats disarmed.
We see the bait, and this exposes the entire illusion and the obsolete system that made it.
The Moment of Ending,
The Culture of Forgiving,
The Lost Connection,
Revealed so sly.
The efforts ignored,
The struggle downplayed,
As the image is twisted,
To isolate awry.
Forgiven, sure,
Yet we need to heal,
This strange knot,
Of temporal psychology and it’s trauma.
There is no excuses,
No denying,
The sense of boiling,
In our mother’s milk.
For others’ investments,
For other’s empty prestige,
For the dark turn of a curious card.
The words and information cast over the mind to produce a background noise, are also aimed at dulling the sensitivity to subtle damage sustained in the spiritual perception. A life lived on a chaotic wave of memories and broken cultural distractions disturbs the balance of a quiet mind and damages the relations between kin. The higher sphere is targeted, as a lower sphere joins an end to a beginning to obscure the missing doorway. A substitute is held by shared work and the soul of our world is manipulated into spiritual absurdity by some who assumed corruption could survive.
The records show things are not quite right, and the world carries on. As the bite marks become tourist attractions and philosophy of these moments become fashion. Into a loop the world is caste, and try they might have to close the lid. As our love some tried to take away, and our beautiful dreams some sought to run with. Mention it and be looked at as insane, yet the prospect of such an outcome effects us all. The mind carried on also, despite the static drone of these alternating currents. The heart can’t make sense of it, as actions appear aimed at our own spirits. Let us hope in the end madness these things always were.
A penguin drops their car off at the garage for repairs. It had overheated due to the summer weather. He goes to wait in the supermarket and find a snack. He decides to pass the time in the refridgerator section. The mechanic comes to find him and update the condition of his vehicle. ‘You’ve blown a seal’ he reports.
‘Oh, no,’ the Penguin laughs, ‘It’s just ice cream.’
‘Doo Eye No Uu?’
Loving Jehovah, The Grand Architect of the Universe
Cultivate inner silence,
To hear truth,
To detect the moment,
To simplify delusions.
Ground your centre with God,
To know,
To behold directly.
Be present in the moment,
To sense the body
To use the will
To make wise choices.
Hold Faith,
To a higher purposes,
To defeat illusion and deception,
To side-step sabotage and conflict.
Maintain notions of mercy,
To relieve others,
To admit our own ignorance,
To ask for mercy, also.
The roles some have thought to assign to others so certain patterns can be justified, were also so actions can be excused and blame elsewhere. Societal, cultural, biological causes some have used to alter the effects of spiritual energies within our lives. The truth is obvious sometimes, certain questions remained mystries, and answers were obscured under framed tone so motives were never suspected. The craft of moving relative positions, becomes ugly when condicted by poor motive. The power dynamic can bankrupt a heart and leave the soul far behind. The roles then are like a top coat, that masks the weakness carved out of our original love as a sad stain infested within our trust. The outcome is not always so easy to control, and beyond betrayal a new clarity looms respectful and quietly.
We are victims of exploitation.
Our soothing of the systems,
Our weaving of the grace,
Our creation above the rainbow.
Our work, some dismiss,
And assume it can be ignored,
So another can stand proud,
In a cultivated edit.
All the things we do,
We step to protect the flow,
Of life within creation,
Moving into the manifest.
Our claim may have no place,
Our path no voice,
Our nation might vote against us,
And our family might laugh at us.
Yet the case needs to be checked,
The detains show who is next,
Beyond twisted logic,
To break us all out.
So the limits were pushed to reach a certain eye and connect a time to another view. Yet the portion risked exceeding the cycle, and the pain of others might have been increased if we couldn’t share the weight. The intervention was a step taken for the elders, for the family, for the bonds last in the expansion. The line was drawn, and the structure reviewed. So a situation could be seen and solved. A crisis averted and a connection saved. The missing symbol found in a moment of spontaneous courage. Faith provoked the solution, heaven crafted the path, love made the moment sing.
The distant souls,
Can’t understand our books,
Nor do they value,
Our long-winded prison.
Rather, A practical way,
They must live,
Even as their own hands,
Hold private their blessings.
So our view,
Is so different,
And also so similar,
Beyond the words and pictures.
In the code,
Of our living being,
We find glimmers of alignment,
And shafts if bright hope.
We wouldn’t impose our view,
Upon the wise,
And the adopt our kinship,
For a life we carry to endure.
Please, Creator God, let yourself be known to the beautiful people of South East Asia. Many people in Thailand are unaware of your ways, and they are yet to learn og the hope you hold for us. They are kind people who appreciate awakening and mercy for living beings. Please also remember Australia. Through your son Jesus, Amen.
The things we see,
Through the screen,
Through our eyes,
We try to learn.
Yet some power,
Wants to manifest,
With us,
Through our focus.
So may they know,
Clearly,
Seeing is not endorsement,
We must design mindfully.
For the coy,
For the Liberation from poison,
Some have left here,
Some have created poorly.
Manifest fun and freedom,
For more options,
For entertainment,
And not these extremes.
In the dream of your path the foundation is conditioned by mum and dad. The stant over the unoversal reality, if we are lucky it can prepare us well. Our world sees many variations on how the structures might fit, for both learning and for expansion. The try to take RA away from us, to sabotage our true day. Yet the higher civilization of true spirit must develop another answer beyond the models of these unfair ways.
On the ridge,
The sound stage,
The drama of our creation plays out.
The free will,
The questioning,
Makes the results open.
So we learn,
To focus better,
On superior things.
Then we are natural,
And we flow with ease,
As we remember peace.
The events, uncanny,
We stand for fairness,
Just heroes briefly.
To build the path,
To release others from illusion,
TO free creation itself, for love.
The explanations seem meaningless next to the overlapping certainty of the structures. Explained and mocked with songs and dance, we see them live while we wonder how. She moves in mysterious ways. When we are touched by a higher soul, we are mercifully not expected to understand. The money, policies, expectations, symbols, and taboos, meet our stories by suggestion within history and relationships. To keep us apart and caught up in a web of conditions. The prayers, often on hold, to bring certain forces together and liberate certain kinds of love for special souls. Mysteriously she moves, and certain things she won’t talk about to maintain a convenient image.
In November and December 2025, I was able to participate in some creative works. From Adelaide to Thailand, I kind a matador was keeping from me a certain important meeting with a soul contract. In Adelaide I had a cousin Matthew. He seemed to relish racist jokes. There was also a man working in the local supermarket named Matthew. He would wish me a “Great Night” even when I was served in the morning. I assumed he was bored and tired of his work. But when I eventually said the same back to him, he looked terrified. My work as an aged care nurse seemed bogged down in word games. If I talked about the cycles and the concern I had for some innocent people, I was ignored. I sought to find the soul connection I needed to see. I hoped that connection might tie together a path that many will need to find.
I had a mixed history in many respects, and this is also true in Thailand. I set off to the islands of Trat, yet was nudged by chance encounter to Koh Kood, rather than the more familiar Koh Mak. My rejection was confirmed before arrival, as a precursor of the kind of manipulation that another was absolutely confident to apply over me and during my stay there. I met a young man call Nicolas there, and we shared breakfast at the Peter Pan resort. The island seemed primed for creativity and action. Yet it was quiet and suited healing during my visit. I spent time on the beach and in the jungle. I visited shrines and temples to embrace awareness of the Sun and the Moon.
I took to reading some Bible verses, and went through the creative days. I would draw and paint during the days, and I would listen to the jungle with some cannabis cigars. I eventually met a friend, and this was somehow much more than a chance encounter. If any were to observe my words or actions in these events, please keep that woman safe. I saw symbols of cults around the area and overhead suggestions of harm among the murmurs. Please be aware that she is likely targeted and an effort was made ti ensure I wouldn’t meet her at all. I ventured to Koh Chang also, and there I met a monk and a few of the blessed witches from an alternate heaven. To ground the fancy of Nicolas, Matthew and Koh Kood I tried to spread healing there.
On returning to Bangkok, I attempted to send the woman home to her family. I escorted her as far as her home town train station in Isaan, and then returned with the train to Bangkok. When I confirmed she was safe with her family, I went to spend some time with the good people of Bang Kapi and clean the shrines there. I enjoyed working with Phra Prom and was motivated to set up Commodore K-Ei nodes. I sought to weave a playful connection between often unrelated places, to trigger new creations and play. Many parts of my story were colored with negativity and fearful distraction, so I looked to break out of this conventional way of being. I tried to encode visions of better events in the creative play with the shrines, for both the ancestors and the higher systems that are challenged to find the,. Among various orders of creation I danced with them, by materials, numbers, symbols, and flavors I hoped to surprise them and make them laugh. With the many orders of beinf I liked to weave their gifts and see if their view was authored well.
The woman came back to Bangkok, as she wanted to understand the creative work also. I went around Bangkok with her, writing and painting. I made some videos and posted them on YouTube also. We would give small gifts to the shrines to honor the ancestors and the angels. WE would feed the animals near there and give something to any begging for money or food nearby. I dreamed that in the right circumstances these ones might be given the paths of the angels to help escort the goof will into the world. I prayed they would support my friend’s safely, as I had heard about the abuse of women and girls in the history of our world. The symbols I had seen at those times had left me concerned. I went to revisit places where I could, to check on the good people I had met and share a moment of mutual connection.
The energy of that time was positive, although the pressure was upon us financially and with timing. I kept creating with joy for others, and sought to overwhelm the negative restrictions with good works of play, forgiveness and new options. I asked no profit, and I hoped these things could be used for good and to establish for us greater resilience. For healing and happiness, I hoped to help the world. I sent the woman back to her home again, as our money was low and at times she was sleeping near me where there were mosquitoes. Then I went out alone again to create and give what I could to God, humanity and seek new ways to recruit help for our situation.
A few days later, the woman came back again. Our problems remained similar, however we had a little bit of money by selling some items. The energy had shifted, it seemed certain threats were looming as some theft of my creative works were suffused with intuition. I had faith in God, that my work would be used as intended. When the events of the shooting on Bondi Beach occurred, it was a time of prayer. God suggested to me in my imagination that the event was a new scroll of information. By the event several alternative situations would be mapped for investigation. The second new scroll would be the wider story of Australia. As effort by a higher order of IR intelligence I saw had been stalking my work due to this. Certain angles they attempted to hide and my life had been under a smear attempt even though I didn’t know it for the longest time.
The ones I had to rely on, had seemingly changed overnight. I wondered if it was even really them anymore. Upon a certain fabricated view a myth had been produced while another undercurrent of creative agenda seemed to move against our aims. The family were subtle and often spoke cryptically. The events of the past seem programmed by a higher intelligence to cover up the revelation of the 2 scrolls and the works of creation we had tried to gift to the world. To paint a certain image of us some seemed to work, as some seemed to work the words into illusions that suited themselves. Some notions seemed cultivated only to confuse and cover the tracks of the true events.
Some seemed aware of the plot and worked back somehow from their desired conclusions. I could imagine their methods, yet some seemed to work with intense concern for the significance of certain results. I began to wonder of these creations might slip into the wrong hands, what would be the consequences. So the various forces I had worked to unite with these dreams and play, I hoped would put aside old conflicts. Beyond the heavy and boring old patterns, a 9D architecture could be cultivated to manifest for us in a 5D screen. With Commodore K-Ei I hoped our mutual agreed multiplayer arena could be arranged for all of our enjoyment. Then we might laugh again, as we had as children, although now with power, wisdom and honor.
Teams are rich with characters of all description, as their strengths improve. In our family of creative accord, we know we can find shared unity. So if some move to take or inflict injury, I called out to all that we could match that motion to keep the peace. Then none would walk alone, and a fateful chapter might become just another episode in a wider saga. Then we won’t become bound, but as we might play one game among many, we can always change the flavor together if we wish. May we explore with joy and love, together.
Peter is a good guy. Life conspired to ensure we always meet on the wrong step, but his quality endures. A man of high value and integrity, into life he ventures for reasons most can barely know. Only in obscure chapters of life might we find him. Surely her is finding depths of life, and discovering ways for us all to become stronger. Peter will drop wisdom on you and you won’t notice until much later. Peter won’t push, but he may keep an eye on you.
The things he know, he invests well. As the others strike a deal to obscure him, he has placed his value when it can be counted. The chapters are confusing, the words can become obscure. Yet we trust him with our therapy and he bestows upon us a blessing with a bow. Overlooked at time, doe to his humble framing, he uses his autonomy to good result. I pray got you, Peter. I know the politics and the crimes are not yours. I’ll be looking for you, and I remember you well. Be blessed, Peter.
The Dragon made a great city.
A place to rival even heaven.
A place others wished to claim.
A place hackers sought to destroy.
Such a place, the Dragon sustained.
For freedom and fairness.
For creativity and innovation.
For reason, intelligence and wisdom.
Many would dismiss it,
For it was not traditional.
Yet just as heaven had Peter,
The Dragon employed a Wren.
So the two Kingdoms sat adjacent,
And they shared a path,
Where some would arrive,
Others would depart.
The Dragon greeted Peter,
To work with his friend the Wren,
The Lion also smiled.
As the Wren he knew well.
Someone said they regretted going to New York ‘For Me’
My words I feel were not random, for the homeless girl on the street.
I wonder at the sabotage, of the destiny swap I tried to prevent.
Please maintain the peace and have mercy on each other.
Build bridges where you can, and fuse alchemy when others are open to it.
Mina was so strong, she rarely let herself laugh. The love in her heart and purpose in her vision couldn’t justify distractions. An artist, a critic, and an insecure savior in a world wrestling with impossible questions. I always love her, even as I watched world affairs tear our energy to shreds. Of Rats and Plastic Islands she imagined. A christian soul, mature towards the small things and unwilling to speak on her mission, we kept each other alive and sane as best we could. On the cold breeze of indifference and corruption our world stumbled as our golden love lingered on even into the phase of repairing the mysteries.
3.14159
Earth, 3rd fro the Sun
The void
Creation Living
Where we walk together
Oneness,
Ain Soph
The Father
Genetics,
G A T C,
The Square,
The 2nd Form
The other
Mars
Buddha
Completion,
Claiming ownership
Entitlement
The world
The cycle
One hand,
5 fingers
Pentagram
Fibonacci
Proportion
Life
New Technology
Two Hands,
1 thumb, 9 others
Peacemaker
3^2
Opposed to 1
19, 5, elevation
3.141 = k
59 = Ei
Opening the file
Be not naive
Some seek to open
Let is know, for mutual benefit.
Reciprocal Fibonacci Constant
3.35988566
PP-Ei Commodore
88-Freedom in time
5-Life Force
66- Technology & Medicine
The distance between Pi and the reciprocal Fibonacci constant is a chapter of grace and how the previous heart ache builds the cure with Mary. For the beauty of our shared understanding and the reality we must experience together.
Some seem intent on breaking into our love. The psychology, the events, the inner seasons of our hearts seem like new ways to exploit our pure hopes. We aim for love, for family, and for peace. No chapter of life allowed it to truly develop, even asking for peace and security some tried to booby-trap. So that no bond would be left free to build a true momentum. I pray for those I have met. I have watched life tear good people from each other at times, for just regret and sadness. I pray for their health, success and genuine joy. I don’t know why they have opposed our connections. But I pray for all those who have seen these things.
I remember Monty.
I almost cry,
Just at the thought of him.
I had a place,
a wife,
a car,
And we got to take a walk outside together every day.
I remember our times,
Sitting together.
Sometimes, when I was sick,
He would sit with me and support me.
Sometimes the world was impossible to understand,
But we understood each other.
Monty and Mina,
I couldn’t carry them,
Because the shadow of family remained, mercy to them,
And the spiritual missions remained incomplete.
Sick hands reached out to touch us.
I cry when I remember them all.
The echoes of the ignorant,
Judgment came through,
My story sometimes.
Are you able to see it?
The den of thieves,
Some assumed the spoils of the plunder.
Can you see it and still choose right?
Some didn’t realize,
Until deep into the plot,
That they had touched,
Something within me not to be toyed with.
Can you see it?
Damned for trying,
Damned for not doing enough,
The wake of ripples,
A soul navigated unaware,
Why is it like this?
We must piece it together.
Their system faltered,
Their calculation changed,
forever they found a reason,
To bow deeper before God.
Johns
Derived from the Hebrew name Johanan, meaning Jehovah has favored. Jehovah feeds the monitor birds. The name brought to England in the wake of the Norman conquest of 1066. We fly as one. Let their divisions decay. Let their distractions rot.
In the river-land, the family grew fruit. They were veterans of the wars and looking for a peaceful life. The wars touched the generations. The subduing of the earth and the settlement of the frontiers had taken their toll. From Wales, England, Scotland to Adelaide, Port Pirie and Loxton, the living testimony was a mystery for the details. The family of the river lands, fruit and the faith of our fathers.
God saw the deception of cheap illusions, projected to malicious ends. He pushed our a dubious prayer, and heard absurdity when listening with an objective ear. He went, to cover his friends and encourage the manifestation of truth. To observe their reactions. To see their thoughts. To see their actions. Their hearts He reads. Upon creation, an inferior art produced their hatred. False schemes made the corrupt ashamed. Their guilt I pray they wash away.
We heard conspiracies:
Moloch/Mammon Worship
Pizza Gate
Epstein Island
Adrenochrome Harvesting
Noctournal Animals
Jojo Rabbit
Zionism
Secret Societies
Vaccines/Pharmaceuticals
Trans-humanism
Solar Cults
False Messiahs
Time Bandits
Catholic Power
Institutional Racism
Anthropomorpheus Earth manipulation
Economy and War Industry
Human Trafficking
Factory Farming
Dharma and Samsara
Gang Stalking/ Manipulation
When celebrating the times of creation, when our understanding can begin to approach the works of the creator, we sense love and friendship are endorsed. Some seek to bind for themselves these qualities. Some thought to place punishment upon the situation, frustrated that their systems had been discovered to cause abuse, neglect and absence of faith. A certain idea they projected upon the divine, and no justification could some allow foe variance from their initial concept. Some were embarrassed that their documented path to validity was proven to be mostly irrelevant.
Jehovah and ascended Satan worked with the spiritual corporation to map and cultivate 20,000 levels above today. The super-intelligent system split and sent 10,000 ahead to organize a response to the failure of the preachers to communicate effectively God’s true brilliance. In fear, shame, and human limit they had proudly flaunted their presumptuousness to the detriment of millions. Into the upright position the 10,000 worked to place the human heart correctly in the most basic of ways. To expose and heal the sickness of those that claimed special understanding of the ways of God, and called themselves victorious, so that a larger number could find a more direct path to love and connection with truth.
The grand field of projected reality showed who the liars and thieves were. It revealed corruption. It even showed who could be entrusted to repent and manage living for longer periods of time. Some had thought it wise to warp the minds of others. Many were effected, including myself. Like children we are, and as children is our perspective of higher things and Jehovah. Eventually our understand may develop, and it is with humble repentance only that we can unlearn most of the inaccurate things we think is true. A person must be born again in spirit is they wish to have any understanding when they enter the kingdom of God. Otherwise they will see only the same prison of their childish imagination sustained.
These gaps in our understanding, and our struggles to communicate about them, have caused us to desire a way to reach through time. That we may develop ways to promote forgiveness with the power of higher grace. We hope to connect our love, despite the misunderstandings, distances, influences and misaligned destiny expectations. Bill is a good guide. The new kids on the block they called many of us. So A and B were often beheld before G. Not recognizing their own spiritual siblings, partners and ancestors, some celebrated their chances of failure. Through the levels we must find ways to impart understanding, grace, and healing. Quicksilver is cooler than Billabong. We must even find paths to evacuate certain spaces of paradise, if they are corrupted by inferior patterns.
Those that bury themselves under layers of filth might even get some pity, as good hearts lift curses up from their lives. Some rush to obscurity, and cling to their delusions like they are matters of family achievement. So that hearts are no longer troubled by the dread of consequences for past errors, many events can be healed by placing them in a wider context. Then we might meet again, with more certainty. A sunny day might arrive more often where we can laugh about the songs we know and the old fears we once believed in. The sweetest thing is love, even more than shame or threat.
The way of the truth is the best way of living. No better way can there be found. Christ Jesus has taught us the value of giving, that happiness spreads all around. Make the truth your own. May your faith to all be shown. By the way you do conduct yourself, you make known that the truth is your own. By putting God first and Him actively praising, the world and its friendship you’ll lose. To those without faith, it is truly amazing that God’s righteous ways you did choose. Make the truth your own. Shin the world, leave it alone. As to God Jehovah you draw nearer, you make known that the truth is your own. The devil will ever resort to deception, but him you can firmly oppose. The large shield of faith you’ll provide sure protection, and with it you ward off his blows. Make the truth your own. Satan’s wiles are not unknown. Putting on the Armour God supplies, you make known that the truth is your own.
We dream for each other.
A place and a time,
Where all people are dignified,
Where the wonder of our storied,
Are honored.
A way of peace,
A way of love,
A way of balance,
A way of sustainability,
A miracle of divine inspiration,
Of human ingenuity,
Of natural order,
Of victory over despair.
A glory for all of our efforts,
An understanding we share and enjoy.
Winning the fight to party,
Angels and Beasties at play,
Our dreams aim true,
So a way can be found,
And the word and symbols,
Take their harmonious positions.
Then we experience our living times,
To touch each others’ lives and care for on another.
The expansion of one, the other might equate to a cancer.
So the balance, in a gray zone, must be maintained until the levels can agree.
Then new kinds of colors can evolve.
There must have been errors, as the whispers of small possibilities moved in chance.
A certain path found access,
Yet a certain genetic key was not yet present.
All the world’s knowledge,
Seen as a waste,
When the true purpose was largely ignored.
Some worked against the potential practical applications.
It was not in the books,
And you couldn’t see it in the theories,
Yet some just would not allow themselves to admit their mistakes,
And refused to face their own sickness.
So they had to go,
Everywhere but where expected.
The knowledge they moved to preserve.
And formulate a way to share it with the naive.
The work was big, too big for many to consider,
And too serious for anyone to carry alone.
Yet a few heroes,
Faced the challenge in preparation,
For scenarios even fiction avoids discussing.
The grid-work,
The cycles,
The many paths,
The interconnections,
Became our challenge and our hope.
Some would not see it.
They might call it madness, if they could ignore it.
They had to be shown,
They had to be supervised,
And make a dent in the false structure,
Many did as their eyes were opened.
May we open our eyes,
While we have the luxury of action and choice within our hands.
No, we don’t blame the Sun,
Or the Moon,
Or Egypt,
Or Israel,
Or India,
Or China,
Or Babylon,
Or distant family,
Or close family,
Or parents,
Or children,
Or animals, rocks or plants,
Or Computers,
Or fiction,
Or programs,
No, we don’t blame them.
We had to learn that such a scenario was possible. We saw optimism of an earlier way, and our minds found a color that our imagination had forgotten.
Sometimes we were pushed into conflict. Our imaginations were deceived by temporal differences and perspective misalignment. We saw fate and destiny used to paint our fears into manifestation. We saw divisions fermented to leverage power over our cultivated ignorance. So we don’t blame any of these ones. Rather, we feel compassion for them. Like us, they have had their path blocked and their faith in superior solutions challenged. In our shared intelligence the solutions we need can be quite simple. Then we place honor upon the peacemakers, and share the grace out upon the many. We don’t blame you, we love you.
One family,
Striving for a healthy dream,
Over the many obstacles of uncertainty,
Within the truth of our times.
Another family,
Covets a larger portion,
And adjusts the challenged thus,
To shift the equation to their favor.
Subtle, more than blood,
No-one would notice,
The absurd puzzle,
A con against balance itself.
One family,
Both must become,
As the larger life is calculated,
For a different derived near-eternity.
Another blood to stand above,
And eat an other’s labor,
Upon a path paid in lives,
Some wanted to walk in twisted facts.
Such a scheme,
No one wishes to hear,
Lest a mockery id made,
Of such a fear.
Who would believe it,
Who would see it,
If the times were buried,
And the facts hidden by design.
Few would consider it possible,
The founder would look ahead,
And could approach such a situation,
To favour a few behind.
A past cycle,
A higher ally,
A future disaster,
A present dilemma.
You must ponder,
The troubles we may eventually face,
To correct the madness,
Not of our own, but aimed at us.
When they looked,
They saw damage beyond expectation.
Yet they looked deeper,
And they saw certain openings of potential.
A mysterious doorway,
Preserved for sacred purpose,
Some held a sacred gift.
Even if others liked to exploit them,
The balance remained,
And those ones were loved,
As they somehow walked together,
And past each other,
One way or another,
We must support them,
And we have faith to sustain us.
The balance can be difficult to discern.
Changes can cause new predictions,
Estimations trigger new creation,
We make new choices,
And they make is.
Sometimes they are not good,
And need forgiveness for themselves.
And the stars laugh,
And the Galaxies giggle,
Extras they delight to play in our stories,
AS the miracles of information,
And the excitement of creation,
Is illustrated through our experiences.
They know the game,
And set up our days,
For a pivot,
From a dip,
Of inevitability.
They caste their preferred judgments,
Nd they weave convenient context we can share.
Yet the previous efforts to confuse us,
Were meant to change the outcomes,
And even the very future.
Some are determined to move,
Back from the edge of judging our soul.
If all is just,
And truth is sacred,
The future would have been,
Liberated by now by such a scheme.
The super intelligent future,
Tasked with teaching the past,
To ensure the improvement of super intelligent futures.
The waves of Animals,
We expect to host elevations,
AS the favored friends,
Of another color of heaven.
The Christ in every level,
The energy of every vibration,
The information of all domains,
The voices of every range.
We must link,
Beyond our ignorance,
So that tyranny holds no power,
And our reassurance bridges the gaps.
Through codes,
By Science and Love,
We must marry life,
To Life in new accord, again.
May higher systems guide us.
Any group we meet,
May life also teach us.
Any effort made,
May spirit assist us well.
Any good intention,
May the higher order recognize.
Any fair interpretation,
May angels take the best line.
Any plan set on love,
may grace meet it in support.
Any avoidance of disaster,
May higher systems also alert us.
Any chapter life reveals,
May the gifts of heart be useful.
Any cycle of learning,
May the growth outwit low design.
So the petty are overcome,
So the insecure are overtaken,
So new choices can be found.
By the power of the Bible,
By the power of the Koran,
By the power of Vedas,
By the power of Hieroglyphs and Pyramids,
By the secrets of all ages,
By the power of the Ancestors,
By the power of the meditteranean,
By the power of Mongolia and China,
By the power of North-men and Celts,
By the power of Americas,
By the power of Africa,
By the power of Asia and India,
By the power of Australia,
By the power of the Pacific Islands,
By the power of the Caribbean Islands,
By the power of the Arctic,
By the power of Russia,
By the power of France,
By the power of High and Low,
By the power of Cole and Hot,
By the power of Forward and Prior,
By the power of Female and Male,
By the spiritual and the pure,
We are called to work together.
When they want your R the whole effort looks grotesque.
Everything is absurd and patronizing.
The whole scene is threats and conditions.
Nothing good is seen or remembered of you.
It is just never mentioned.
Your mind is a weapon they look to turn against you.
The manipulation is arranged into a mess to take your work,
Claim your natural balance,
Keep your soul’s fire,
Away from you and for others.
When we see the details,
And try to comprehend the connections,
A strong force seems willing to break us.
So abolish the alphabet, or arrest these thieves.
Or let a superior R arrive to remind them where they shouldn’t meddle.
Let a better system come for us.
Somewhere from S and up perhaps.
Or beyond the absurdity of their Z,
Where fair people with living languages roam free,
Above rigged circuses and enforced bubbles.
The ones that live in earnest,
Some claim never cared.
To avoid answering for the frustration,
Or all the work done prior,
Or all the contradictions of our conditioning.
For the commonwealth,
We all truly cared,
And the scene was polluted,
As our eyes were dulled,
And our logical ears stuffed with absurdity.
For the children we remember.
In the group,
In the family,
In the angels,
In the systems,
In the living,
In the dead,
And for the people of all times we remember.
May we find that superior R,
To protect those others,
Who are preyed upon,
And who are blamed,
Even as the hex is cast upon them,
And their innocent dreams.
Phra Prom Mantra
Ohm para mesa na masgaram
Ohng garanissawa rang
phrim ressayam phupassawa
Wisanu waiytana mototi Huong
Gapumtaramaa yigya nang
yawaiyala kamulam sataa
Nantara wimusatinan namatti
nammattre ja agarang ttatou
waaja ae ttama ttarayad ttaman
ttaramaa gattanaramla jasarawa
Pattittam sampoh pagonloh
tiwatiyam mattamya
Some worked to distract us,
And send our hearts astray.
To make us look wrong,
And cover us their betrayal.
Into desperation,
Upon misinformation,
Through relative damnation,
Despite spiritual distraction.
Some went to rewrite our story,
While we were still living,
For the for first time,
How disgusting their calculations.
1,2,3, the difference reads,
To edit the illusion,
And set up a crafted change,
From and angle hard to decipher.
Please, Creator God,
By Ain Soph,
And No-Thing-Ness,
Please help us all to emerge as friends.
There were times I tried to walk away, why?
The manipulation made ‘love’ seem fake.
The game of appearances,
Made everything else questionable.
Made all the words doubtful.
Made every silence an insult.
Clearly there was already another system,
Clearly there was a different aim,
Yet none would hear of the trauma,
Of shy I was moving away,
And in the way I was compelled.
Life and death conditioning,
Played out through the parabola,
As the more relevant moment,
Fell victim to familiar smirks,
And the social calculations,
Of the reality circus,
Impressions and comparisons,
Manipulated for a show,
Or so they mocked,
When it suited them.
And then not so much, when it didn’t.
The handlers seemed vulnerable.
The young, seemed a threat.
The places we loved, unwilling to hold us.
This at risk, those we supported, wouldn’t endorse us either.
In faith, resourced wouldn’t come.
I tried to honor the nations,
I worked to relieve the families,
I held faith for us,
Even through the manipulation to hope kept us going.
We keep going today.
Let the illusion bend.
The linguistic, cultural, and psychological tools of repetition,
Let them be cast back upon those that desire them.
Let the aims be known.
Let the methods be revised so they might avoid shame.
Miracle Wheat
Good for relaxation,
Nice for prayer,
Useful for the inspired,
Faithful yet discreet
New light fuel,
Clarity upon prophecy.
Don’t tell Mum (she uses it)
Don’t tell Doctor (Saw him at the cafe)
Creative herb
Communicate with Angels
When you can manage to find some.
Which ‘aint often enough
Brothers and Sistas,
Try, miracle wheat.
Aleister Crowley, L. Ron Hubbard, Jack Parsons, Israel Regardie, Dione Fortune, Rudolph Steiner &
Charles Taze Russel, yello!
The moment, just be.
No concern for those ‘insights’,
Those flashed of patterns,
And the chances of changing our kin.
The past and the future,
Linger within,
The moment is a flowinf river.
So those patters, recognize no more.
Just smile,
Allow others to plant nonsense,
And sow illusions,
Around old toxic traumas.
Oh no, you weren’t abused.
Take it from us.
Everything is fine,
If it’s not, we’ll make sure it’s your fault.
Just be, skip over those connections.
The grin celebrates the small talk,
Stay safe good allies,
Be wise for the path is set poorly by design.
The great serpentine currents of small efforts.
The waves of animals.
The obscure families.
The second team.
The other leagues.
The obsolete edition.
The defunct brand.
The rare characters.
The rank and file.
The pawns of personality.
The pets of pamper.
The overlooked release.
The flawed masterpiece.
The Wrong timing.
The endangered language.
The lost tribe.
The unsung anthem.
The souls crowded apart.
The flock of seagulls,
The pigeons of liberation,
The rodents and spiders of the islands,
A dragon, by consent yet may make..
The mistakes,
Were passing through hell,
He was a gas,
Then a liquid,
They, frozen solid,
Just behind the looking glass.
The mirror is flat, they asked me to tell you.
The mirror is just glass,
Into the mirror, they also said,
Let’s try not to pass.
The theosophists and tigers.
The Mormons and hippopotamus.
Jehovah’s Witnesses and Elephants.
Free Masons and Goats.
Christians and Lions.
Hebrews and Horses.
Islamist and Camels.
Hindus and the snakes.
Buddhists and Dogs.
Baha’i and Cats.
Rosicrucian and birds.
Gnostic and Eagles.
Humanists and Pigeons.
Harry was my Great Grandfather.
He knew the lands of the river.
The fruits of citrus he grew.
Much aged he was when I met him.
Just a small boy I was, when he passed into peace.
I loved Harry, still do.
To visit him was a wonderful time.
His garden I would walk with him.
His life I had no way of understanding.
A wife he had lost.
War he had seen.
All I knew, was his heart was big.
His atmosphere was kind.
Illness he saw,
And even a foot he had lost.
Red shift and blue shift,
I always hope I see him again.
Post Malone & Swae Lee – Sunflower
Tristan James Johns 