Rubber ducks and magic, here’s a synthesis of what i’m talking about.In pursuit of catharsis; through trash, through words, through shifting the paradigm until there is no paradigm at all. Lowly, words spoken to the world wide web, read by few, mocked by many, one of the colorful ingredients that feeds a prosperous whorehouse.
Behold! said the apostle, I ride the holy cow in glory, the cross in my right hand impales the turtle’s head and the world is shattering by it’s earthquake. My left hand melts into an inverted cross that pierces the heavens. And yet inside my armor there is nothing but few drops of blood. My heart has eight rays, but it doesn’t adhere to an eight-rayed membrane.
Be it a left-handed path or a right-handed path, we all know how it’s called, no matter which hand you use. Such obscene secrets and rites, useless today as they were useless a thousand years ago…
“Thou shalt use no hands while performing the art!” (chant and squeeze rubber duck)
-Where is the apostle now?
-He died, i suspect, leaving a curse prescription behind, “do not share”.
-Are these metaphors?
-They are not. Do not take it as a charade, sharpness is my goal when describing it. If words are twisted, it is because the story is twisted. I read that on the backcover of my tarot manual.
-Many facets?
-Yes. Thousands, and new ones available for any occasion. Custom mutations, by will or by self-preservation instinct. It’s a process that once started, can not be stopped.
-Why interfere?
-Ego. It survived disinfection, therefore it shouldn’t be killed. It is not a part of the membrane and the human is the only structure that has an active self conscience. While everything owns a self conscience, it is only a vegetal function. It is running on background, no other structure is aware of it. That is why a human is a god, and above god, since the Source itself is lacking awareness.
The ego is a parallel membrane. Could this be real, and simply understanding this-not by logic but by identifying yourself with the information-could switch you to godmode.
-Why don’t interfere?
-As i said, it can not be stopped. Once you made a change, you trigger another change that must be shaped by your will. The BIOS called ’fate’ does not affect you anymore, if you do it correctly. Blessed or screwed, your choice, depending on you bare will and capacity to refuse a bells hat as well as a top hat.
-Reveal me the meaning of all this.
-I have no f*cking idea, dude..see further info on automatic writing.
All canons were respected until now. See for yourself, if there’s something else in your head except future plans.
The Masks Policy, this was the approximative old term. It is of great importance, it is the basic law of interference. For those suspecting nothing of what this could be, explanations would be a loss of their time. There is some critical moment when what is outside current mask appears as a neutral projection, in despite of the owner of the mask being in middle of events. In this point zero, he will find that there is nothing left of ’him’. Now he can truly perceive the apostle’s words. ’Only few drops of blood inside the armor’. Fear, anguish, depression, madness, blabla etc? Will pass or will devour you.
The long-expected moment, is there anything beyond the mask policy? Yes it is, and it is pure ego, unmanifested, but not similar nor congruent with the nameless light; ego is an unique term in the records of existence.
Rows: packs:
Love-honor-peace-brightness.
Hate-honor-pride-red.
Love-lies-sugar-jeans.
Hate-lies-glances-religion. And so on.
Credibility of a mask policy row can be high, for a simple reason: the owner of the mask forgets he is wearing it. He becomes it, but he is not trapped by it. The secret is RRR- to Remember, Remove it and Replace it when it is needed. What may you truly be? A materialist whore, a nihilist ascet, an ambitious monster, a weak romantic person searching strength, a rubber duck? Who cares, it will be hidden forever.
And the apostle came forth again, into a new avatar and with thundering voice he said the following: [screeech!]: Can your mind comprehend that what you used as a cheap metaphor so many times is real, active, used as disguise right now? Here I stand before your rodent eyes, stripped of all my masks, do you faceless lovers still love me? Can you recognize what it is that lies in front of you? Isn’t my ego consuming yours, burning it like rocket fuel would burn a scooter’s engine?
But caught by his rows spell, they raised loving eyes, each holding the pack he received, never seeing more than their static mind could carry. And they were merry, and they saw that it is good blabla.
In memory of someone that might be alive or not.
