GENESIS
U extract a rather large
golden letter from u’s postbox. The return address just says; The Universe.
Back inside your abode, u open it and discover a single sheet of paper and
another letter inside. U unfold the note and get the shock of u life. It says.
Do not open the letter until u
r in transit! U have one hour to pack a basic kit and get to the central bus
station. Pick u ticket up at the Cosmic Bus Company’s office and catch the bus
to Wemerton. Get off at Bob’s Siding, 20 k’s from Wemerton. Wait for our agent
to contact u there. If u want to play the game of cosmic consciousness, do not
hesitate.
It is timed that your double will arrive 30 minutes after u vacate the
premises. They will assume u life and all of u bills will be paid. So get
wucken moving! The day and the hour that u have been dreaming of has arrived.
Don’t waste it punk, or punkess. Because u r most lucky today. The good old
Universe company has ordained that u shall play the real game. And wuck off the
abstract concept of being just a humanoid.
In a fit u fly around u joint,
throwing this or that into u case. U r beside uself, u just can’t believe it.
Finally u r going to get to play the real game. The company has provided a
double and all of u bills will be taken care off. U’ve got absolutely nothing
to lose u tells uself as u hurry thru a shower. Christ! The water has trouble
getting thru the raw electricity that u r putting out. Some of it just bounces
off.
Within 27 minutes of receiving
the letter, u r out the front door and u r wucken flying, almost. A bored
neighbour observes your depature. Thru their window they have cognition that u
r going somewhere, with u case. One half hour later they witness your return.
They observe that u have changed u clothes and lost u case. Their suspicions of
u r considerably aroused. They will spend the rest of their lives wondering
what u had in that case that u got rid of. Even on their death bed they still
will not have the answer.
No matter. Because u r on the
bus to nowhere and u have opened up the other letter. It is telling u straight
out. No drugs! No artificial stimulants! The only way to play this game is with
a naked and naturally raw, peacefully quiet mind. U will be strip searched and
every orifice that u’ve got will be looked up 6 times with a robotic eye. So
don't even think about it. About trying to smuggle any stash or booze in. U
wucking current! Only meditation will be allowed at cosmic boot camp, u get
told.
“Jesussss! Wucking wucken
wuck!,” u whispers a bit too loudly to u cosmically good and extremely lucky
Earth hologram self. From a window seat half way down the bus, u tells a feels
smooth against u face crimson curtain all about it. This makes the old lady
sitting next to u suspicious, but u don’t care.
U just can’t hold back
anymore. U r cosmically excited! U r ethereally alive! As an I am. And there is
nothing at all in the universe wrong with u, because u r playing. THE REAL
GAME. U r on the ascent to cosmic consciousness and that just feels so wucken
good. It’s taken u lifetimes to get uself into a position where u could get a
few shots off at the holographic Matrix that governs Earth. And now u’s is on
the road to do just that.
Staring out of the window at
disappearing hustle bustle city streets, enjoying the motion and the excitement
of going somewhere unknown. U r thinking these things. Or rather, the mind that
u r attached to as a body vehicle is thinking. Using symbolised letters
plastered into words that pop out of nowhere and roll back into nowhere. Like
some sort of wucken ghost train of non stop language inside. That u can buck
ride, or not buck ride. Depending on u wucken inclinations.
There is a shitball of plastic
emotion curdling at the centre of the mind as well. U’s is aware of it. Stuff
that goes way back to when the body mind machine was a kid is wrapped up in it.
U got programmed with word crap that is all bullshit back then. U knows it is
going to take a mighty hit of something to blow it all apart. And start again
on the make friends, child road that loves the curious because it is FUN.
Somehow the adult got itself
into the position where it fears what is and what’s coming. Its entire world is
dying around it, so that is understandable. Ground water and sea water both
testing poxed with toxicity to the max. Friends and lovers dying all around
them. Lunatics with insane bombs everywhere. The dark side of the show
appearing to be near the victory floor in its arm wrestle with the light side.
Of the show. Species after species telling each other to get the wuck out of
here. Here being the 3rd dimension. There’s a wucken big blow
coming! They yell as they dematerialise.
In effect, the adult is a
product of the psychotic and neurotic aggressions of the civilisation that it
as body mind machine was born into. It can’t help it. It got taught war words
and war is about all that it knows. Because everything in the matter world
definitely appears to be competitively wucked. Big fish swallow little fish. On
and on it goes, for 1000’s of years.
As a real player, u have to
destroy that very false picture of reality and replace it with a transmutated
lust for the wonderful. Magical stuff that is u source. The Light. U r aware
then that neither the universe nor the cosmos has ever made, or ever will make,
a mistake. U just knows it, deep down in the body and deep down in the psyche
too. U knows it well! It’s time! It’s u wucken time! U can’t wuck around
anymore with the superficial, psycho babble, so called human, solve every
problem shit.
U’s just gotta play the real
game. It is all that is left, now that u r aware that Earth is mind dreaming.
False. A holographic illusion being re run, re created by the mind. And then
plastered as projected holographic images onto a mindscreen. Every second, but
not every split second. It’s what’s really going on in the split second that u
r after now though. This being the general thrust of the real game. On the road
to cosmic consciousness.
All of those drugs, from
words, to coffee or tea, pot, pills, piss, powder, sex, romance, politics or
whatever. Have been sustaining the love-hate shitball in the centre of u
everloving. Grey of a brain. U knows that they will be sorely missed. In u
favour though is that there will be group suffering from complete abstinence
and u will have plenty of identity there.
At Cosmic’s Anonymous. U r still operating in the twilight zone of so
called human comprehension. That is to u benefit right here and now. U just
knows that it’s a hell of a lot easier to suffer when everybody else around u
is suffering too. Because that is what makes the old, dying world go around.
Mass identification with gruesome and unwarranted suffering. Not love or money.
U have also taught and armed
uself to just watch impartially the words that come thru the mind. U have been
practising watching the Samson and Deliah play that is the 3rd
dimensional mindscreen. Even though the language is no longer yours or u, u
notice that there is some doubt about being able to exist in a drug free state.
Having been brought up on stimulants, the thoughts r wondering if the body can
get by without any of them. Because u hate de kaf anything!
Or u as imagined person does.
U want the real thing! The artificial, superficial substitutes give u the
shits. They just don’t make the grade. They don’t come anywhere wucken near it.
Of course, u r quite practicised now at finding a real quiet spot in the mind
using meditation. Which u also consider to be a drug, the most powerful one
that u have ever known. Because u love that quiet spot where there is no
trouble, past or future or pain. U love that floating around and u meditation
spot seems to have become part of u. It is the only bit of baggage that u’ve
got really that u really don’t mind carting around.
U odd bit of calm silence is the only gold that u got really. In a
world where the holographic roof is coming down. So that that mega monster of a
spaceship called the Light can land. Inside uself. And outside too. In a realm
where there just in no difference. None at all. Between the inner and the
outer.
When the going gets rough now,
it just seems to switch itself on. The quiet buzz. The refusal to let the
dreaming rile u. Don’t get ruffled by illusion, the voice in the head tells u.
Relax! Step out. Watch. Don’t judge. Don’t try to control. Let the universe do
the walking and the talking. Let the company speak. Let go of all word concepts
and just enjoy the ride. Mellow yellow it. Let u dream in the dreaming unfold,
as dreams do. There is need of universal vision and the ingredients r there.
Because u r on the road to cosmic consciousness. That’s what u’ve got going for
u these days. The wucken truth. The whole truth and nothing but the wucken
truth.
U’ve long done away with the I
am a low down and worthless. Super angry, dirty rotten, body mind, so called
human machine shit. Hohh! U’ve wucked that wucking puerile wucking crap right
off! It is not even a cellar dweller. U just dissolved it with I am Light
affirmations. U’ve long abandonned the idea that matter and the world r real.
That stuff is kiddy poo for u now.
U have clicked then that the
mind is not who u r and that it is a sense of u oh so sweet and oh so powerful
kid soul. Wuck! It’s just a tool, that’s all. It is the basic set up in the
programmes that soul’s run. U as Kid Soul Spirit, roam and play far, far wucking
beyond it. U r not flying around there in that Void just yet. But u know that u
r not totally in the third dimension.
U know that u r spread around the sky as well, with links everywhere to
the spiritual ancestors.
That rumble in the jungle down below is still going on and your arse is
sitting on top of it. For wucken once! U’ve just given u entire civilisation
the fingers up and hopped the bus to u don’t know wucken where. Not many get a
chance to do that.
U glance to the right and
observe that the old girl next to u has started another row of her knitting.
Whatever she is doing it is coloured deep green and u like it. U wonder briefly
about how the double that the company has slipped in will go. The thought of
someone else handling the rotten grind and all of those currents that get to u
is a rib tickler. Especially those wuckers at work. The company is tops, u tell
uself. They provided some other bitch or bastard who looks like u to get up and
go to work for u. To handle all of those pricks and fannies and do all of that
shit.
U relax some more into u soft chair and tilt u head sideways to the
window again. The rumble in the jungle of the machine’s engine, u find
soothing. It’s good to know that there r some wucking decent revs in the bowels
of the beast that u r riding in.
The buildings r breaking up
now and all of the high rise is gone. A few paddocks with animals in them r
starting to appear and the traffic lights r a lot more lonely this far out.
Some of them even look suicidal. As the city recedes behind u, so does the
heavy societal weight. Of having to do stuff that u don’t really want to do, so
that u can pay bills. To all of those little agencies of the state who r
convinced that they r running the outer illusion.
As much as u r not that fond
of reading on the bus, u flick the pages of the 2nd letter in u hand
over, and body drag them to within eyeshot. Of u recently cleaned, super
liberated spectacles. The feeling running thru u is astronomical and cosmically
orgasmic. It’s excitement plus. U have never felt so free in all of u life. If
it were not for the bus there is no way that u would be sitting on u arse.
The thoughts run thru u again that at long, long last. U r gunna get to
play the real game. If u can get thru boot camp that is. Shit! U tells uself.
U’ll romp it in because u r made of light and u work for the company. They
wouldn’t have picked u out if they thought that u didn’t have the clout. No
way.
The dossier is a refresher
course in cosmic consciousness. It reminds u that u have being playing life as
a separate body mind machine illusion for too long, and losing. It reminds u
that u went and got uself hopelessly lost in a dark and light holographic
dimension. Identifying as just being one body with a host of illusory head and
heart troubles. Which u attached mind has dreamt up using words in a language.
It tells that u have absolutely no comprehension of who u really r as a
Kid Soul Spirit, a KSS. That’s why, it says, u r on this bus. To find out.
Because the Real psychic
powers picked it up strong that u really do want to play it as the lot. From
that cosmic perspective where the one that is u and the One that is u, r
totally aligned. Where u r the wave and u r the Ocean too. And now u r on that
path and u r hot to trot. Inside and out, the universe is working for u.
U r on a bloody gorgeous ride and for the first time in u life, u don’t
give a wuck where u r going. U just know that it’s gunna be good. Real good.
For once u will be able to boot karma up the arse. Instead of it booting u all
over and around the Earth. That is a bit of a drawcard with the real game. Such
prospects r.
First though, the scroll tells
u again. U gotta do cosmic boot camp. U’ll have the meanest Sarge over u that
ever lived and it will be damn, super tough. U can’t be like the 17 year old
punk or punkess that thinks that they know how to drive the car. Then burns out
the clutch getting out of the driveway. No! No! No! The scroll tells u. Boot
camp will give u all that u need so that u can take u rudimentary theory and
put it into good practice. Don’t u wucken worry about that! U r informed.
A whole lot of other stuff
gets said and then u read who its from. Goddamn thing is signed by the
Commandant himself and that just makes u smile heaps more. U face is just about
cracking anyway and the old lady next door is getting more suspicious. As
though u r turning into green slime and soaking into u chair. She’s just
dropped a stitch and she’s got u pegged as a mental, a druggie, or maybe a bit
of both. Christ! She’s got no idea that u r just riding high on the prospects
of playing On The Road To Cosmic Consciousness.
Twinkle twinkle little star,
is the only decent thing that they’ll tell u at school. It is the only truth
they’ll give u, because it is the only one that they’ve got. It is an apt
description of u true spiritual potential. Kill the human word Matrix! Destroy
Word Volcano Mountain! Annihilate the chatter-chatter-chatter mechanism! Is the
kindest thing that anyone could ever whisper in u ear. U r the lot the light.
That is the absolute truth. U alone R. The one-One.
As far as granny is concerned
though, u r on something illegal and r thinking dangerous stuff. And inside,
she’s cursing the bastard that ascribed her such a horrible seat. She’s just
going to Wemerton to see the grandkids and she don’t want to know about the
lunatical side of life. She just wants to knit. The constant sniggering,
chuckling and gurgling going on next door to her is putting her off her game,
no end.
Little does she know that u just want to burst into hysterics because
u’ve got a double now. Back there in that shithole of mundaness that up until a
few hours ago. Was u low down, dirty rotten, stinking grind of a life. When u
get off the bus, granny is one foot in the grave relieved.
It’s raining! Not hard, but
enough to wet u. U r standing in the gravel at Bob’s Siding and it is still
going on. The excitement. The chuckling and the gurgling. The feelings of
absolute freedom and working for the greatest company in the cosmos. The
adrenalin rush that’s been at u ever since u read the note that told u that u’d
won a shot at the cosmic game. Is just about killing u. U draw back to the
little bus shelter and stand there like an enlightened alien, with u case by u
side.
A great big grin of
satisfaction plastered on u gob, like a wucken billboard. Arms folded, u r the
picture of a tower of immense spiritualised strength. Serenity plus at Bob’s
Siding. Little curly ectoplasm orgasms r rising from u guts and spiraling up
thru u chest. Creating immense warmth around the heart area. U know that the
company transcendentally loves u and u love them, and that feels mighty good.
U takes in the environs which r rolling green paddocks surrounded by
forests of tall trees. Thru the eyes of the body u gobble it all up.
It is all very pleasing to the
mind, very slowed down and very countrified. Drops of rainwater r sliding out
of u hair and rolling downtown. U don’t even bother to wipe them up. U r just
standing there staring at a hologram within a hologram.
U r lost in time and space and u r wucking around with matter and
energy. Which r but the spirit in disguise. The physics and the metaphysics r
all yours to play with. U r dimensionally surfing. And absolutely loving it!
If’n the universe turned it on anymore u’d pop, like a volcanic orgasm, inside
and out.
3 hours later u r still
standing there, because it is still raining. U r still playing the waiting game
and u still don’t care. U have been I am ing it. As u have taught uself to do.
U have been just watching, inside and out. With absolutely no fuss about what’s
next. There is a body mind machine standing in the bus shelter at Bob’s Siding
and it is getting on dark. It’s not u though. There is no separate aloneness
about it. It is company material and the solidified agent is just following
instructions to return to the liquified hive. That’s all.
So when u hear the sounds of
an old double decker bus approaching, u don’t even blink. Even when the
hydraulic door squishes open in front of u, u show no reaction. If u got any
cooler, u’d be on a movie screen playing the entire sky/ground/ocean/space
backdrop. And all of the characters and names and shapes in the show. At the
exact same time. U’d be the lot then. So u r having a little premonition about
the forthcoming real game. Maybe that is what is going on. As u anticipate
movement.
“Hop on 41!,” a kindly voice
says.
Robotic like, u do. Keeping u
tinted shades on, for the time being. U throws away the butt of what u think is
gunna be u last fag as u board. It sizzles on the gravel in the rain and dies a
2 thirds consumed death. Like it was born to do.
Immediately upon the bus u
notice a few things. U notice that the driver has no beard and that there is no
one else on the bottom of the double decker bus. There is however, a hell of a
racket coming from the top deck. U can hear head bashing, thumping music and a
whole lot of shrieking and screaming go on. It sure sounds like there is a
human party going on up there.
“How was the trip 41?,” the
driver asks as he crunches in the old second gear.
The bus is back on the bitumen
now, having sailed off the gravel like some mythological character’s ship. It
is rattling like wuck but it’s all heaven to u. It is also pitch black now
outside. U’s can see the rain pellets in the headlight spread of the old
clanger of a bus. Doing their thing.
“Good! Excellent!,” u reply,
without hesitation.
The driver looks old, kindly
and harmless. He also looks likes the kind of a driver who could drive this
double decker bus thru hell. He looks like exactly the kind of driver that u
want, to drive u just now. He feels like kin to u and if u got any warmer u’s
would turn into toast. For a brief second u memory recalls a concept called
fear, and then it is gone. As if dissolved by the high powered excitement in
the reality of the moment.
“Your double has been
successfully integrated, though we have contributed to the illusions of one of
u neighbours. That couldn’t be helped though. So welcome aboard 41! Please
proceed upstairs for the party of the century!”
Intrigued, u slide u arse
around the corner and onto a seat. With u right hand wrapped around a thin
chromed pole, u lean in towards the driver's left ear.
“Party?!,” u query, as the
incredible shake, rattle and roll below and the mega voluminous thumping,
screaming and shrieking upstairs continue.
From over his shoulder the
driver flashes u a rare smile. It is homogenous and uniformly awesome. In that
moment, his body interior dissolves. All that u can see in his humanoid
outlined shape for a split second r stars and deep black space. It is enough to
let u know who is really driving the bus.
It hits u that u don’t have to worry about who holds the balance of
political power anymore.
U smile back, unafraid. Un
alarmed. U suspected as much. The company that u work for has all of the latest
spiritual gear. They wouldn’t have got this far in the real cosmic business if
they didn’t. They deal in the real game, not superficial and trivial ones.
“Do u remember the absolutely
no drugs in boot camp warning in the literature 41?!,” the driver asks.
“Uhuh!,” u reply, spotting
another set of orange eyes off to the side in the dark that is forever coming
at u. “I remember it well driver!”
“Well, I put it to u,” says
the driver. “Given the choice of throwing their last bit of stash out of the
window. Or getting in forty very quick last licks upstairs on a rickety old
bus, what do u think a bunch of so called humans would do?”
“U r joking driver!,” u says,
amazed. U head nods upstairs. “Isn’t that against the rules?!”
“They r not in boot camp yet,
r they 41?! God help them when the Sarge gets hold of them though! If they can
still stand that is. But u go ahead 41! There is no guilt here and no rules
really. Except be. So u go up there and introduce uself to the other players
and just act naturally. Just be 41! That’s what this is all about.”
“Ok!,” u replies happily. “I
can do that!”
Wuck a duck! U never expected
this! It was the last thing on u mind. What a wucken bonus! A last chance to
get it into u and then get it out of u. Or else, to just sit with it and either
rock on or rap, or nod off. U r inner-outer and the drugs do help in
superficially reinforcing that. But in a laborious way that sucks too deep into
the body mind machine’s energy circuits.
One last bash with them
though, can’t hurt. B4 u turn it all over in its entirety to u spirit. So that
u can play the real game that is always going on behind that holographic curtain.
That every citizen knows as the Matrix.
Just b4 u go to go up the
stairs to get up top, u notice a sign. It says,
NO WUCKEN POLITICIANS OR
DENTISTS ALLOWED!
Up these stairs go the greatest non thinkers in so called human
history. Up these stairs goes evolutionary, revolutionary, cosmic
consciousness!
Welcome to cosmic consciousness!!!!!
Then Player 41 starts neon
flashing at the bottom of the words. It amuses u incredibly as u’s drag u case
up a cramped spiral nightmare.
“Here’s another player!,” a
raucous voice greets u up at the top. U can only just hear the dude because of
the severe vibrations of the music. The roar of the bus engine down below is
nothing compared to that.
Looking up u see a friendly,
bearded face beaming at u. The being is a lot younger than u and his eyes r
bloodshot glazed. It looks like fire is about to burst forth from outside of
his pupils. It’s evident that he is CONSIDERABLY wired tonight.
“I’m Bruce!,” he says,
offering u his hand. U’s shake it and then lean into his right ear. In the
background u espy a bunch of 40 or so other blokes and sheilas partying on.
Some of them r worth a second look too.
“ I’m 41!,” u tell the
recently met being.
Bruce leans back and smiles
voluminously. One of the fingers that he has wrapped around his glass of scotch
peels off and points at u. He waves a big joint around in front of u’s face.
Like it’s a sparkler or something. There’s still white powder crystals clinging
to the hairs in his nose. He’s got blood on the tracks, on both arms. Probably
from a speedball. Evidently, he is getting his money’s worth. When it comes to
the last licks scenario.
“U r Judah Ben Hur!,” he
laughs.
“No!,” u tells him. “I am 41
and I am nothing in particular, yet I am.”
Bruce rocks back again and
roars with laughter. He turns towards the other end of the bus and starts
screaming at them to turn the vibes down. Eventually some one obliges him. The
party dies in an instant and instantaneously all eyes, attention spans and
fascinations. R focussed like individualised rivets upon u. Apart from the
rattling of the bus, u r it.
“Evening crew!,” u drawls from
a painless state. “What’s happening? Is this the bus to nowhere?”
Well every body came rushing
forward together and it was the dead opposite of the Big Brother shit. In 60
seconds u got and gave more love than ever b4 in u life. They all wanted to
know only one thing too. Did u have any drugs or booze and what were u going to
do with it?
Were u going to dice them out
of the window or were u going to put them into the old bus rattling kitty? So u
throws u case up onto a luggage bump and clicks the catches open. The lid flys
up and u throws a few bags at them. Half tennis ball sized things heavily
wrapped in gladwrap.
“One of them is Mullimbimbee
Madness!,” u tells the crew. “Another is Durban Poison and the other is Thai
Buddha. Or the 3rd might be Souwest Simps. I dunno. I can’t wucking
remember!”
Then u’s drags out 2 six packs
of beer, 2 bottles of scotch and a large bottle of additive. U fish out a
couple of bottles of good vino as well. The unmistakable clink of ice slapping
against glass wall has u swivel u head. U r smiling like u haven’t smiled in a
long, long time. It feels real good. Real, real good. U r among kindred spirits
and the real party really is on.
“Where d’yu get the wucken
rocks comrades?!,” u’s enquire with anything but superficial delight.
“The driver stopped at a
supermarket for us!,” some bod tells u.
“U got any powder or pills?!,”
someone else enquires.
“Nahhhh!,” u tells them. “It’s
just the 2 p’s for me these days. Wuck the rest of the shit! And meditation
too! Of course. The ultimate floater’s buzz, I am into.”
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!,” the
crew roar. “Just as well or we would have ditched them out of the window!,” a
few of them tell u.
“Wucken bullshit!,” someone
else explodes in the background.
“41!,” says Bruce, getting
ready to do the introductions. Then he went from being to being and informed u
that every sheila on the bus was named Susan. He did the same with the blokes
and u find out that they r all named Bruce. U r the only one using u designated
code number, but u don’t care. Someone hands u a drink and u just don’t care
anymore. About the names that people give to the shapes in their lives.
U do want to measure uself
though, because it looks as though some amongst the crew r intent on wiping
themselves out. There r already a couple of pairs of citizens who have
collapsed into corners. They r attempting to snog but u can see clearly that
they r about to pass out.
It is in the front of u mind
that when u first meet the Sarge that u will be on u feet. No loud mouthed
motherwucker of a current of a Sarge is going to have a piece of u on u first
day, u have decided. So u pace uself as u mingle with the creature features who
r going to be doing boot camp with u.
There’s some characters
amongst them. That’s for sure. There’s one bloke who sure looks like he needs
to get a few burgers into him. He’s the skinniest critter that u’s have ever
seen. His arms r pretzels and his legs r matchsticks.
He moves like strings r
attached to them. His nickname u’s soon discover is Brains. Obviously because
that is the widest part of him. That’s his main muscle.
He’s wucken skinny though.
A 3 out of 10 fart would blow him away.
Cosmic Boot Camp
It is dawn when the bus pulls
into the camp. There was a ceremony b4 entering where all that was left in the
kitty was disposed of. No one could take any more. Everyone had a long bush
piss as well. Number 9 even had to have a bush crap and wipe their arse with
yesterday’s newspaper. Because of the lack of dunny paper.
That turned the crew on because it was symbolic of what was now behind
them. And well taken care of. The few who weren’t on their feet were woken up
and reignited with the truth. No one knows where the wuck they r and no one
wucken cares. They just want to play the real game. That’s the whole story and
that is all that is going on. They got told.
Everyone piles off the bus
inside the camp later and lines up like they r supposed to do. The Sarge
arrives and starts bellowing about this and that. U have the robotic probes
that were spoken of and receive a regimental haircut. Which is then dyed with
all of the colours of the rainbow. Everyone gets the same treatment and the
barracks r mixed.
It is a bit strange at first but u get used to it. By the end of the
third day u can walk past an exposed penis or vagina and not flinch. A
magnificent bosom here or there is par for the course. A towel flick here or
there on naked bum is fun. And hurts like hell when payback time comes. U sail
thru it all though. The comradeship is unbelievable.
No one has come to find a soul
mate or play kissy face or sex me, sex u. Or to get attention or play insipid
power games, for ego benefit.
Everyone has come to play the
game of cosmic consciousness, where the body mind machine is known to be a tool
of the kid soul. Living the illusion and delusion that it actually has separate
existence from spirit. A totally artificial constuction operating in its own
artificially created world. Dream, to its core. Your job is to give it a wake
up ride on the River of Light.
The only way that u gunna do that is if u blow the wucken shit out of the
Matrix. Called here, Word Volcano Mountain.
The atmosphere is electric and
from day one the Sarge is treated with the utmost respect. In the first week
though he says very little, though he barks orders a lot. Left right, up the
hill, down the hill as u get physically tested. There r some very tough 4am
meditation sessions. With the bastard initially walking around bellowing on
about how good it is to interrupt the main dream cycle. With dead still
silence.
Then giving u and a few of the others a damn good finger clip on the
little hangy down part of u ear when u’s nodded off. Wucken painful stuff, the
Sarge’s fingers having the kick of a mule.
There r numerous classes
relating to spiritual theory and the nature of the coming holographic game. It
sounds from what u get told that u will be armed to the teeth with cosmic
weapons on a playing field where u can blow away the demons. That using words
in a language have created for u. In u attached mind tool.
One morning u got woken up at 2am. The Sarge was having a fit and was
absolutely agro.
He was roaring around the room
having turned the lights up full bore. Kicking the beds and screaming like a
tyrant at the top of his lungs. He was. This was after a 10 mile hike that day
with a fully loaded pack. Wuck! The crew were absolutely stuffed and no one
knew what the wuck was going on.
There were naked tits flopping
around everywhere when u finally sat up. For a brief moment it occurred to u
that u had died and gone back to hospital heaven. Everyone knew that no one was
guilty, so they could vision no problem. Everyone was just doing their duty on
the road to cosmic consciousness. They was.
“Who the wuck r u 23?!,” the
Sarge had roared at u good ally Susan. Who with tits dangling, was still
rubbing the deep sleep out of her eyes. Wuck! Susan didn’t know what the wuck
he was on about, till it clicked for her. The third time that he’d roared at
her.
“I am the wucking Light
Sarge!,” she’d screamed back at him.
Well the sarge had spent 60
minutes going around the room. Firing off such questions and demanding the
right answers. All of the time bringing it back to the bare I am. Stating that
all this and that’s apart from inner-outer Light were useless. And would be
killed in the coming game.
He’d come back to 23 too,
later on.
“So u r the Light r u 23?!,”
he’d yelled so mega loud at her that the whole wucken base had shook. Wuck!
Some of the guards outside had shared later that the wucken Commandant had even
woken up then. The angelic bastard came out onto his verandah to see what the
wuck was going on, apparently. Smoked a beedie too! Stared at the heavens for a
while, flew off in his astral body and then returned 2 hours later.
Glowing with Light, like some sort of wucken firebird, they’d reckoned.
No one had doubted them. It
was just that sort of a camp. Where there was no chance that the guards could
have been on drugs. Or were telling lies for attention or money. The guards
were all volunteers anyway. Most of them hailed from Saturn, though another
bunch were from Uranus. As appalling as that sounds, it was and still is the
truth.
“So u r not some low down,
worthless, malfunctional human item then!?,” the Sarge had bellowed like an
enraged bull at u comrade.
“U r not a piece of worthless shit!”
“No Sarge! I am made of
Light!,” 23 had roared back. Wuck! 23 was quick. She cottoned on to the Sarge’s
game real quick, because she’d liked it so wucken much. It was what she’d
always wanted to hear because finally, somebody was showing her some spiritual
respect.
The Sarge was like a bull
terrier though. He got hold of Susan and he just would not let go. It was
obvious that he held her in very high etherial regard and that he’d sussed out
that as a centre of attention, she may evoke some decent answers. This bitch on
the angel’s path did too. Susan, she was a wucken goer when it came to the
spirit in her. No one doubted that, least of all the Sarge.
“U must be prepared in the
coming holographic game to never ever, under any circumstances, compromise that
u r made of Light 23! U have to shift u entire focus from the body mind machine
to u KSS! Absolutely! Do u have what it takes to do that 23?!”
“Yes Sarge! Absolutely!,” 23
had told him.
“What about the wucken rest of
u?! Is there a Judas to the self or the Self in the wucken house?!,” he’d fired
at us. “Is there a doubting Thomas in my wucking wucken platoon?!”
Well, the crew all told him straight out, being wide awake by now.
“No wucken way Sarge! We’s
wucken made of wucking Light, just like 23! There can be no compromise of that,
ever! Sir!”
U were there when it was said and u were yelling u guts out too. That u
were made of Light and that u worked for the wucken Light company.
The Sarge, he’d liked the sir
bit on the end. He was pleased that we’d added it. The wucker. The Sarge was
definitely brute ugly. The incredible thing about him though was that he never
came across as a person. He was totally unbiased, a company professional and
pure spirit to boot. Often, we saw the stars inside of him and the beautiful
black backdrop too. He had one focus only and that was to prepare his charges
for the real game.
The Sarge knew what we were
all in for and he let us all know all about it in no uncertain terms. From the
very beginning he told us the truth. U may be enjoying the company right now
player he conveyed, but when u’s plays On The Road To Cosmic Consciousness, u’s
plays it alone. There is no one else except u who can blow the shit out of the
Matrix. U will be the only player on the grid. There will be no one else.
That’s what we went to sleep
with in the barracks and that’s what we woke up with too. U alone r the one,
the only one, who can destroy the Matrix. Called Word Volcano Mountain, or WVM.
That was with us all 24/7 all thru cosmic boot camp. Having been indoctrinated with I am inner-outer realignment
though, no one was psychically bothered by it.
In fact the opposite was
really the case. The challenge was there and everyone wanted it. There wasn’t a
soul in the house who would even have considered throwing it in now. If u could
have canned excitement and flogged it, we would have all been overnight
billionaires. We just wanted to play On The Road To Cosmic Consciousness. That
was all.
The so called human world and so called human fascinations just did not
interest us any more.
We’d all tasted enough fine
food. We’d all had enough sex, passion and romance. We’d all acumulated enough
3rd dimensional, dualistic experience. We didn’t need any wucken
more of that, but we needed to play the real game. Because that was our heart’s
desire and we could wuck our egos right off playing it. Then we could go flying
around the etherial ether again. And check out all of those much lighter, much
better, cosmic games. That basically, was the plan.
Everyone was too aware that
very few so called humans were even aware that the cosmic consciousness game
existed, let alone actually lived to play it. Everyone knew what it meant too.
A chance to superboot the soul to the end of the cosmos, then bring it back. As
an armed vehicle for accelerated consciousness awareness. A chance to do
something simultaneously about the appalling state of one’s attached mind and
the appalling state of the world.
A shot at getting to that level where that harmonious civilisation that
u wish to create, instanteously comes into being.
Because all negatives r
spontaneously mutated into highly charged positives. So that the functional
component of the game is the development in u skills regarding the
transmutational aspects of holograms. Exploding and honing up u psychic
spiritual powers. To take them from the most unbelievable dullness and chaos
into the most spectacular Light filled harmony possible.
This is the individual life and this is the total life too.
When it comes to cosmic
consciousness. It is in the nature of the spirit to take care of eveything and
have everything work out mighty fine. The so called humans don’t know that they
don’t know who they r though, that’s the problem. They don’t know that they r
the Light. The reflections spawned by their own attached mind tool have conned
them and they take them to be deadly wucking real.
Instead of seeing them for
their own mind evoked shadows that they really r, many scream claim that it is
all some wrathful sky God’s work. Ignorance, that’s the 9 lettered so called
human word for it. For that which perpetuates all wuck ups. It’s a cruel,
sadistic killer of a word too. In the end though, karma kills it too. It
attracts to itself, its just desserts. Like any action in the 3rd
dimension does.
*
On the 10th day u
receive a call to go and see the Commandant. U r the 7th of the bunch to do so
and r filled with awe regarding the event. The prospect of meeting the Guru who
runs the camp fills u with even more divine excitement. U rushes back to the
barracks, showers and pretties uself up. As best u can, all things considered.
Two guards from Uranus escort u to the big chief’s office.
“Good luck 41!,” the Sarge
calls out to u as u sail on by.
“Whatever u do, don’t stir the
bastard up! I want some decent tea tonight, not beans, bread and wucken rain
water!”
“We’re having lasagne and
cheesecaske and wucking non alcoholic wine Sarge!,” u tells him with a ring of
confidence surrounding u. As u do double time inbetween the big 2 who came all
the way from Uranus. To play with so called humans.
“Good luck 41!,” the crew
calls out to u.
“Watch him! He’s tricky!,” the
six who have been in b4 u state.
“Did I ask any of u’s Lights
to open u wucken traps?!,” the Sarge screams back at them.
“No Sarge!,” they yell back as
they quick step off in drill formation. Hip hop, hip hop. Trot trot. Like they
all came out of cereal packets as universal soldiers or something.
One thing that does hit u as
they move off though is that u really do love the transcendental shit. Out of
each and every one of them. Everyone of those girls and boys is as dear to u as
the universe is. They r coloured differently and have different backgrounds,
but u have an incredibly deep affinity with them now. Because exactly as u r,
they r made of Light. And exactly like u r, they r playing the only game on
Earth that is really worth playing. Called here, On The Road To Cosmic Consciousness.
Where if u get real
psychically skilled. U can blow the wucking shit out of the Earth Matrix which
is keeping u locked up down here. In a pisshole 3rd dimension. And
slowly killing u with boring re runs mixed in with a whole lot of pain and
suffering. Angers, and despair.
Basically u r sick of ego gang states, sky Gods and the infantile so
called human game. And u just want to have some honest to goodness cosmic fun
again. That’s all. It’s pretty simple really. And dirt wucking cheap. I am therapy
inside is.
“I am made of Light! I am
gunna blow the wucken shit out of the Matrix in the wucking dark night of the
soul game, I am! I wucken am!,” the troops sing in unison as they drill on.
“I know how to wipe the ego
arsehole in the mind clean now!
I just sit in I am! I kill
the this and that shit!
I am no word and no thing!
I am nothing and I am
everything! I am made of
transcendental Light I am! Sir
Sarge!,” they follow up.
Another platoon yelling much
the same thing passes them going the opposite way. They r all singing-yelling
their guts out and in the distance there r many other squads drilling. Who r
also singing-yelling their guts out. About having the goods to play the real
game.
Because there is no one out there who is telling themselves that they r
a low down, dirty rotten, sinskin bag of a so called human. A limited vehicle
unfit to take on the cosmic pastures.
Too slow, dumb and violent to
grab for those esoteric truths that r always there. 24/7. Self destructive
ignorance and hate wrapped around bone. No wucken way! Now do u entertain this
word language crap in your attached mind.
U love u Self and u want to
give u self the best shot u possibly can. To find u Self again. U wucken do!
That other false wucken shit built of letters made into words made into
abstract language is long gone. Runs by as 18 other words as u comfortably
just. Watch it.
From u everloving,
transcendental, one foot sideways, one up, inner-outer distance. U r no longer
just a body mind machine. U have gone way beyond that and r now armed KSS.
These days u talk to Goddesses and Gods in u wucken sleep. And u tell ‘em that
u and the others r coming to play with them again. As u unfold back to u Source
as the road itself.
It is a huge cosmic boot camp
full of Lights that u r in and u chuckles super deeply. From intuitively
creative and visionary pastures presently unknown to the modern state and sky
God conned. Man or woman. Knowing that if the state run authorities knew anything
at all about the shit that u r seeing and doing these days. They would
absolutely shit themselves! Probably, and eventually to holographic death.
Because u know what all of this means.
It means incredible changes to
the Earth hologram, which u will have the divine right. To pop in and out of
any time that u like. In any body that u wucken choose, or wish to manifest in.
Those citizens in the world who still have half a brain and half a heart left
then. Compared to the ones that don’t even know about the real game yet.
They’ll soon be drooling at their bits and shaking their tits to get it
on with cosmic consciousness.
Like u r when u go thru the
Commandant’s door. Into a waiting room where a Saturnian attendant greets u.
The Saturnian has morphed into the humanoid form. They do this sometimes to
make them feel more at home with the Earth game. By the way that the creature
is smiling though, u know it is a Saturnian. They r like 7 feet of Nordic
ecstacy minus an anus, being Blondes.
“U may go right in player
41!,” it kind of squeaks at u in its idiosyncratic way.
“The Commandant is expecting
u!”
U’s Meets
The Wucken Commandant
So u’s does.
U’s knocks fair to middling, then u’s enters.
It is like walking into another dimension. The atmosphere is like
nothing that u have ever experienced b4. Almost as if u can actually see the
electrons buzzing around at head height. The room is dimly lit, but the
serenity in it is almost overwhelming. It is as if u could reach out and grab a
chunk of benevolent wisdom and eat it.
U heart area is pumping with warmth that seems to be coming to u as a
gift. That has spread into u attached mind giving it crystal clear clarity. As
if u were looking thru the universe thru pure, see thru, water. Or some other
liquid, or version of slowed down consciousness.
U can smell incense burning
and on the other side of the room. The Commandant is squatted on a cushion on
the polished, wooden floor. Or rather, what appears to be the polished wooden
floor. He is lit up like a 5 foot 5 atomic bomb and u r just absolutely wucking
speechless. U have never seen so much
Light in all of u life. Without warning it brings out a whole lot of
clogged up emotional stuff. To do with feelings of self worth that prior to
this instant. U thought that u’d wucken gotten rid off.
Tears well up inside of u. To
just meet such a being is a reflection that somewhere, some wucken place. Some
wucking current thinks that u r worthy enough, to be a real player. And that
that current is u KSS.
It rushes by how many times in u past life that u put u self and u Self
down. It runs by u’s how many times that u put shit on u people filled world.
It runs by u how many times that u forgot the KSS word and instead. Bored on
full steam ahead into doing what u ego wanted u to do. To either accumulate
material material, or material experience.
In effect, it brings up how
many times that u cursed u self, u world and u Self at the same time. With
words that made u feel bad and a psychic culture that made u feel even worse.
Because the sky God in it had stated. In sacred one and only books.
Full of letters thought up and arranged by so called humans. Em wucking
phatically! That u were bad! U done bad! U r part of a bad, imperfect species.
U got wucking kicked out of the good place where all of the mind blowing real
games r, because u were bad! They couldn’t handle u up there.
U were very, very naughty! U
sinned, or u wucking ancestors did. Now u spend life fighting the wucking ego
Devil off, instead of just hanging around a lush garden pretending to be
virginally innocent.
The sky God told the ancestors
not to have a taste of self knowledge. The dirty bitch and the dirty bastard
though went right ahead and had a wucken taste. Straight up their spines and
into their heads. The snake energy went. Boom! Their own intelligence shattered
them. Because they were curious and no woman or man on Earth really likes to be
told what to do. By any wucking body. Seen or unseen.
If u go deep down into their psyches, u will find an ethereal desire to
be the Masters and Goddesses of their own destiny shows.
Because that’s real survival
in a cosmos full of holographic games. That vibrate at different levels. The
mind can play on many different vibrational levels and u r the living proof of
that. Because u got sentenced to extemely hard time Earth. Where a dark and a
light frequency live all mixed up. In the same dimensional, shit box of
duality.
Basically a holographic
picture world which numerous gang run states have carved up. And r in engaged
in a holy war on to determine which big gang and smaller gangs. All backed by
the same sky God. Shall gain 100% control of the global market. So that the
rich can get richer and the poor can well, basically, just die off. If they
starve or catch fatal diseases, well it’s cheaper. It cuts down the gang’s
costs.
U don’t know what to do about
u doubt flashback, except to reinforce that u r made of Light inside and just
watch it. This indifference initiates its dissolution. U r put off u guard
though because u got a whole heap of something that u didn’t expect. Soon
though u level up with affectionate detachment from the mind. U’s throws uself
prostrate on the floor. Because u thinks that’s what u supposed to do. So u
does a rugby slide on u body’s belly across the holographic floor to the Guru’s
feet.
“R u ill 41?!,” the Master
asks.
“No Master!,” u replies. Maybe
a bit too crackling loudly.
“Then get up, for wuck’s sake!
U can’t play the wucking game of the millenium down there! Get up and have a
cup of tea, and a biscuit, and a beedie. And a little chat with me.”
“Beedie Master?!,” u’s
enquires. U haven’t had a puff since
boot camp started. Shit! If the Master offered u goatshit wrapped in dunny
paper, u’d probably smoke it. U wucken would.
“Yes beedie 41! That’s all
that I have. I see it is on u record though that u did like to smoke. So u were
and still can be like me, if u wish. The body keeps a habit or 2. It does no
harm so long as there is moderation plus. The body is not that important, ay?!
It can live long or not so long. It doesn’t matter. Only the cosmic
consciousness game matters. Believe me, I speak from experience. The Real is
what It is. It is the Real, capital R.
Nothing on Earth can mirror It. It mirrors the cosmos. It alone is, the
only One.”
The Master’s words have come
out at a machine gun pace, but they sound like the finest wine tastes. U notice
the tea, 2 biscuits and a beedie in a little crystal ash tray. All on a silver
tray, just in front of u head. U almost head butted it and u’s thanks u KSS.
Because u didn’t slide that extra few inches.
Within seconds, u holy arse is on a deep purple, Guru warn in cushion.
U legs r crossed and a beedie is wrapped inbetween a couple of u fingers. The
Guru hands u a gold coloured lighter. His beedie is already going, bright and
strong. U remember smoking one of the wucken things years ago. It tasted like
elephant shit and kept going out. Right now though, the one that u’ve got in u
fingers. Is a heavenly, heaven sent straw.
A gift from the Guru that u
could not possibly refuse. So’s u’s lights up, and sucks in a bit of India.
Minus the nuclear bombs.
“41!,” the Guru asks, as u
suck and suck. Then breathe out about an inch of smoke. Meanwhile, the Guru’s
head seems to be enveloped in an enormous golden cloud of stuff. That’s
intoxicating u with a little internal debate regarding its origins.
“Can u give me 5 words to
explain what is inside and out to u?,” he asks. Once again, at a machine gun
pace.
“Matter, energy, space, time
and dimension Master!,” u fire back. Sounding a bit like a Tommy gun uself.
“Can u give me a word that
gobbles all of them up then?!”
“Consciousness Master! As
Nisargadatta said in I Am That. The totality of the known in the immensity of
the unknown!”
U’s quote verbatim from the scriptures from one of u main text books.
Actually, it’s the one that u
r most fondest of. A lot of the other players too. But u r not saying it to get
any points with the Commandant. U r saying it because it simply cannot be said
any better than that. That particular text book Master’s words being unbeatable
and unsurpassable.
U know also that there is another Master just like him, sitting 2 feet
away from him. But that u r not sitting there in body mind form to do worship.
Because u r part Master too. U
thru uself on the floor sure, but u thought that that was just the routine. U
won’t get fooled again. U’ll just bow a little next time. Or salute u heart. U
r not sitting there to learn or earn anything then. This is a meeting of
Masters. U r sitting there because u r made of transcendental Light and the
wucken Commandant asked u to come for a chat.
That u r picking up insights that r taking u light years into the so
called future, means that it is indeed, u lucky day.
U realise that u were never
born at all. The body was. The mind was. And a shit load of trouble the buggers
did get up to together. But u were never wucken born! U were always, somewhere
else. In a place called everywhere. Safe, secure, rock solid, happy, full of
bliss and just playing.
The watching game. Watching! Watching! Watching! The mind screen on the
cosmic computer. Waiting! Waiting! Waiting! For da Call! When the so called
human wakes up to that fact that u r there in SPIRIT always and that u alone r.
The runner of all things and all things that r not.
When u get that call. When I
am Light is pumping thru the universal brain, like a nuclear explosion. Then
u’s a going down! U’s a going full on into the hologram. There’ll be no more
hanging back. When that wucken so called human projection starts going I am
Light, then u will have the 3rd dimensional portal wide open. And u
will be in like wucken Flynn to the matter programme to create absolute
harmonious havoc upon Earth with cosmic consciousness.
U r going to blow the 3rd dimension to bits. This sort of
shit is going thru the head on u shoulders somehow and u get a poignant drift.
That u ego is dying. That u r pretty glad about that. And that u don’t mind it
all if u KSS does the thinking, the talking and the walking.
It’s astral hand is closest to
the cosmic mouse, not the skeleton one. That’s what u r seeing being thought on
the mindscreen. About wucken time too 41.
“And the universal mind is
41?” Brings u out of u little debate.
“An atom bubble in
consciousness Master!” U hear being spontaneously said.
“And the mind that u r
attached to 41?”
“An atom bubble in that
Master!”
“Its spiritual potential 41?”
“Unlimited Master! Absolutely
unlimited. The bubble can pop at anytime if the conditions r right and the
absolute truth is loaded up with. It can go straight thru all of the dimensions
in consciousness back into the Light of awareness in a split second.”
“Where It is?”
“The Self Master! The Real! A
completely liberated, totally unbound and cosmically unwound KSS! Bliss, in an
endless ocean of bliss.”
“U have been studying hard
41!”
“Yes Master!”
The Master laughs heartily and so do u’s.
“Tell me 41? After u have
cracked the Matrix and surfed the River of Light back to the Shoreless Ocean of
Light, what then?”
“Whatever spirit wants, then I
will do it Master.”
“And if the spirit should wish
that u should come back and play as a 3rd dimensional sleeper again?
Who gently wakes up and gently wakes up others to the real game. Whilst
continually having to periodically wipe the body’s arse.”
U don’t flinch. Calmy u’s
reaches up and takes u shades off. U’s looks the Commandant lovingly in the
eyes.
“Then that will be what
happens Master.”
“Come with me 41!”
“Yes Master!”
U get up off u arse and
proceed to some sort of third dimensional star chart. It’s like a huge
holographic screen built into one of the walls. It shows a cosmic host of
planets where the cosmic consciousness game is being played. It shows that the
Earth is the lead planet in the real game. U r stunned! Absolutely wucken
stunned!
Because once upon a time u
used to think that u were on the biggest wucken shitball in the universe. Which
just goes to show u that u can’t judge a planet or a plane or a dimension. By
its colour or the holographic games that its indigenous inhabitants play.
The Guru gives u a little
machine gun lecture about how important the Earth is. To the big picture works
and the spiritual hosts who work for mind uplift to the cosmic consciousness
level. Harmony addicts, the wucken lot of them. The company is wucken full of
them, the Guru tells u.
U just keeps nodding u head.
Because u know that she the Big Mama, u and everybody else is gunna make it in
a wucking big way. When u’s play the Real game.
All together, u r gunna bring the transcendental Light to holographic
Earth. And party with cosmic consciousness. The entire story is right at this
moment being written. In the hearts and the questioning and seeking attached
mind’s of millions upon millions of so called humans. Billions actually.
Who r all made of Light. Yet r
surrounded by a mind illusion of lots of darkness mixed in with the odd bit of
light. Basically as that translates in a 3rd dimensional world, life
is either pleasure, or pain. The mortal history being somewhat personal and
individually interpreted. The pain being the background of body mind burden
against which any pleasure happens. The ground being separated and divided. Lost
in time and space, to matter and energy.
The spirit one being a united
common spectrum. Called here cosmic consciousness, enlightenment by others.
Invariably, no words govern It. Or can explain the paradoxes associated with
the re discovery of It. It is too mythological, mystical and transcendental.
And a hell of a lot more wucking fun for the player too.
Because it is full of truth, Light and transcendental love. Instead of
wicked lies, homespun illusions, hate and war. In a separate and lonely illusion.
Of a lot of pain and some pleasure followed by death. Which is the average so
called human’s lot. And the greatest illusion in the universe.
Because Earth only exists on
the individual-communal mindscreen, where the I am component of the psyche imparts
reality to it. Apart from that, it, like dreams, has absolutely no substance.
This fact, billions of so called humans will not acknowledge. Until their dying
day. Strange days indeed for far, far too many.
U though r now completely and
utterly satisfied with everything in the cosmos, as is the Master. U both go
back and squat on u cushions. For the 40th time u’s re lights u
wucken beedie. It tastes like gold dust looks and u r loving it. U don’t know
what brand it is, but it is blowing u wucken head off.
U feel like u r flying around the room and that if it wasn’t for the
Commandant, u’d bust clean out of the wucken roof. And head for deep space.
Check out some faraway planets
and roll around slowly with them. A bit. Do some yeoldling and maybe let out a
few Tarzan or Sheena cries. Maybe get into the middle of a few dying stars and
blow up with them. Then watch and sing divinely as new stars r made from the
chemical dust of the old ones. Being totally blissed out by the nature of the
show. Again, u r. Shit!
U can hear the most
astonishingly beautiful, super soothing cosmic music out there. It is melting u
soul into pure liquid bliss. Because the Guru’s grace is going down u
inner-outer throat at long last. U knows that with the I am cosmic consciousness
pattern installed in u that stuff will just get better and better and better.
The get worse again, positive to negative slide, mind pattern is dead for u
now.
Totally and absolutely too. U r really wondering though if it could get
any better than this. Shit! The bastard has put cosmic heads in this wucking
beedie, u’s see go across u attached mindscreen. In a 10 word roll. Like there
is a telex in u brain’s, mind eye.
It hits u like a ton of bricks
that the mind is nothing but a tool. It is a SUPERB tool, because it can create
something out of nothing. It’s drawback is that it is totally powered by
memory. Which, like a motorcar, can malfunction. Especially for the mind which
gets devestatingly lost in the something, whilst totally forgetting that the
something is actually made out of nothing.
Well, a few chemicals stirred up gives u a dream. That’s about it. Hard
to believe, but exceptionally uplifting when u make no effort to belive it. And
just accept it. That the real is not real at all. It’s just a mind stage, or
film. U r the Light and u dream, so what?! So do all so called humans, dream
the dream. Unkillable as spirits they r though, every last one of them.
“U know, I almost envy u’s
bitches and bastards! I really do!,” the Commandant says.
“ The Milky Way was good to me
and still is. When I think of when I killed my WVM Matrix, oh the tears 41! The
tears! Such an enormous explosion of sheer joyful bliss accompanying it. The
wucken fun that I had getting to and blowing the wuck out of that mountain full
of clogged up shit wucking words! Hohh! The things that I saw! As I destroyed
the 3rd dimension.
The stuff that I did and was
party to on the road! The beings and creatures that I encountered on the path!
The relationships, the interludes. The romance, the passions and the wucks. The
love, the pain, the suffering, the spontaneous joy and the never ending
trouble. Vicissitudes coming at u, left, right and centre! How to ride them
out? How to deflect and soothe them? That was always on. When I stumbled with
the early steps, and when I came to grips with them too.
And then the opposite of all
of that in its dreaming free entirety. Everything just imploded to a tiny dot
of Light awareness. When I died completely to the body and the mind. Or died in
the sense of not in any way identifying with them. As being who I really was,
and am. And then.
That unforgettable reunion with my KSS and that unbelievable surf on
the River of Light! Hohh! 41! Let me pass on to u that the moment of final awakening
is really something special!
Description of it is way, way
beyond the scope of any mortal language. U could not even get a single letter
or symbol into It!
And yet 41, I am still just like u and u r still just like me. We r
always kids in this business.
We appear different but we r exactly equal in the big picture Light.
Joined like Earth and sky we r.
Underneath all of our
experiences is a common one of absolute stillness and silence. We r exactly the
same at the end as we were in the beginning. We r all humble and divine
spirited servants of the Light. I’d do all of that love and hate again maybe,
because it is just so incredibly fantastic when u cosmically wake up. Isn’t it
41?!”
“It is Master, it is!” U says
with unbridled enthusiasm.
“It’s wucking unbelievable! So nice to let go of all the false
word crap that has haunted and limited u for so wretchedly long. So nice! To
not be a person, drugged up, weighed down and sacked up. With the sin concept,
assorted woes and the rest of the ego. It is grand to be able to cosmically let
go! Absolutely wucking grand!”
“U know 41, I had a little
ceremony b4 I dropped a little honey pie down that wucken mountain’s throat. I
paid it due respect b4 I sent it to the bottom with a SLM. I had a good chat
with it actually.”
“SLM Master?!”
“Oh! Sorry 41! A Spirit Light
Mortar! Your most important weapon in the coming game.”
U’s licks u chops. U haven’t
heard of these yet. U’ve done lots of martial arts. U can fly thru the air like
a wucken Ninja from hell, and kick the wucking shit out of anything living or
dead. U can pulverise a wucken big sack of spuds into mashed pulp in 60 seconds
flat. Just with u left foot too!
So can everyone else in u gang. So far though u haven’t been shown a
single technologically manifested weapon. U must admit, the desire to get it on
with them has been gnawing at u a bit. It’s a test to wait patiently, on any
road. Good or bad, or neither. Or that one which is beyond them all.
“So u have been most
fortunate, haven’t u 41?!”
“Yes Master!”
“U KSS has looked after u well
from that which is both the seen and unseen to u. It’s given u a full belly
most days, no war on u front doorstep and a cosmic pack of insights to deal
with. U’s have had the early realisation that there r no pre conditions for the
evolution of cosmic consciousness. Haven’t u?”
“Yes Master!”
“Anyone can do it with I am
therapy and a little or lot of meditation, can’t they 41?!”
“Yes Master!”
“Got any questions 41?!”
“Yes Master!”
U’s leans in here, after
having lit u beedie up for the 50th time.
“How come my wucken beedie has
gone out 50 wucking times, and yours hasn’t gone out once Master?!” U’s asks.
With an absolutely filthy bewildered look upon u face.
“Ah 41! For two reasons. Firstly,
this is not my beedie! Nothing is mine. Everything is the Light. This beedie
then belongs to this universe, and this universe belongs to the Light. So both
the Light and the universe keep it alight. Secondly, I don’t try and fishface
suck the wucking wuck out of the wucken thing! Like u wucken do. Go easy, suck
slowly and gently if u wish to play with heaps of cosmic smoke. Watch!"
Within a few seconds, the Guru
has blown out the word BLISS in 2 foot high, perfectly formed, capital letters.
U r most impressed and chuckle away contentedly. But the Commandant is calling
the shots and declares that he is a busy spirit and that u time is up. Aside
from that, u’ve finally finished the wucken beedie that he gave u.
So u’s, as gracefully as u can, initiates u withdrawal. With thank u’s
galore tumbling from u full of awe gob. U’s is almost out the door when the
Commandant calls u back.
“41!,” he says.
“Yes Master!”
“The spirit just whispered to
me that u r in for a tremendous surprise today! U r gunna absolutely wucking
love it!”
“Yes Master! Thank u
Commandant!,” u’s gets out as u’s gently closes the golden door. U’s swivels
with a Grand Canyon of a grin.
There is thinking going on
which begs the question, what the wuck could top what u were just exposed to?
What could possibly be better than cosmically blowing up with the stars?
Looking up, u see the Saturnian gazing at u. It’s wearing your expression and
now u know why.
“Did u enjoy that 41!,” the
attendant sqeaks at u. U’s nods, galactically. U can’t get no words out. U
facial expression is giving it all away.
All of the way to the door,
which seems to take an eternity. The feeling is strong in u that u have been
caught up in some sort of timeless and spaceless vortex. U finally mumble some
affirmatives to the good vibe Saturnian. Who like u, just will not stop
smiling.
A
big Wucken Surprise
U’s goes thru the same green
door that u r came in by and just abouts drops dead. From bliss loaded shock.
At the bottom of the verandah steps, there’s the Sarge standing there. The ugly
old bastard is holding something out to u. The smiling grin that he is wearing
reminds u of a lizard’s arse. Late on a Sunday afternoon.
The gang r all standing behind
him and they r all wearing a similar item to that which is in his outstretched
hands. Only their handles r different colours to yours. Enormously satisfied
grins r plastered on their faces too.
“Strap them on 41!,” the Sarge
orders u.
“Yes Sarge!,” u fires off,
without the slightest hesitation. Ecstacy is being flung off u and is mixing
with the ecstacy that is peeling off the other players. Electric excitement is
in the air as everyone has a giant sniff that the actual start of the game is not
too far away now. Goddamn if u can’t still hear the most beautiful ethereal
music playing somewhere.
U takes u guns with abandonned
awe dripping off u and straps them onto u waiting waistline. Carefully doing up
the little leather straps that have to be tied around u thighs. U’ve always had
a deeply dormant desire to be a gunslinging cowboy, and mix with gunslinging
cowgirls. Now it has finally re run happened. Again, but on a different level.
A more tuned in to the common cc goal level, this time.
One where u really r allies in
the crime of the century. Being, to destroy the Earth’s 3rd
dimension, replacing it with a 5th dimension. It just can’t, u runs
across u midscreen, get any wucken better than this. Or can it? That’s the only
doubt inside that u will allow now. U just can’t get over the pearl coloured
handles of u brand spanking new guns though! U hands just can’t stop fondling
them.
It feels so good to run u palm
balls around their handle tops. It’s like they’ve got nipples or some’ing. How did
the company know that u’ve always been fascinated by and totally in love with
wucken pearl?! Oh! They r just too much! Too wucking much, as far as u r
concerned.
They just keep blowing u away with absolutely superb gifts for u
stretched out, androgynous soul. And u r absolutely wucking loving it. The best
thing that ever happened to u was when u found out that u weren’t just a human.
In fact u found out that u weren’t a human at all. U found out that u were Kid
Soul Spirit. That’s how u came to play this wucking game.
Practice u draw sideways to
the verandah, the Sarge instructs u with a hearty roar. Outside in the yard,
the others have turned away. They r drawing on everything that is not in sight.
U does a few times and r absolutely amazed at the feel and the spiritual weight
of the guns. U spins them around in u fingers a few dozen times. They sure
wucken feel at home there.
The Sarge tells u that they r C 45’s with a 6 shot rotating chamber. He
also gives u r a firearms security drill and u nod to it all. He also informs u
that the one golden bullet in u holster is live and that u can do anything with
it. Except load it into either of u guns. Or anybody else’s gun.
It is currently he bellows at u, is just a show pony.
The Sarge’s ugly jutting jaw
is in u face as he spits it all out. Then he raises his right arm and gives a
two finger click, that reverberates all around the camp. Beings miles away look
up. Like animals smelling something in the wind.
“17!,” he roars.
“Bring it!”
At the same time as 17 comes
forward with it, the others drag their’s out from behind their backs. The
bitches and bastards have been hiding the wuckers, apparently. The Sarge grabs
it off 17 and throws it at u.
U’s grabs the rifle at a 45 degree angle to u chest. U feel like Davy
Crockett must have felt when it is in u hands. Now u know why Daniel Boone said
see u later to Mingo and went home to Becky every night. To clean his rifle up.
U have never seen anything
like it, nor felt anything like it. It’s like u got a sword of Light in u
hands. The power in it u sense, is absolutely awesome. With this u will be able
to kill whole patterns of word behaviour. U will be able to shoot those bits of
conditioning that have been bugging u since the body was born, right up the
wucken arse!
Hohhhhh! Wuck a wucking duck!
All that u can sense from this
moment is unlimited fun. Standing on that verandah, u’ve got everything that u
ever lived for, and more. If the universe blew up right now, u’d just laugh u
guts out and blow up with it. Take me baby! Take me! I am all yours to play
with.
U’d be saying.
“That’s an unloaded WN 25
rifle 21!,” the Sarge roars at u.
“Now fall in the wucken lot of
u’s!,” he screams.
“That includes u 41!,” he
snaps.
“Don’t stand there wucken
gawking at it laddie! U’ll get plenty of wucken oppurtunity to use it. Don’t u
wucken worry ‘bout that!” He screams at u.
In a second the gang r all
lined up, like they should be. There r guns protuding out everywhere and
everybody is super happy about that. The Sarge screams out the move off order.
Hip hop! Trot trot! U go along with the others. Knowing that u have in
u hands and on u hips, that which u can kill a lot of evil word concept stuff
with.
Of course, u r also aware that u will need an SLM to finish the job
off. And u know if u dwell too long on the prospects of getting u hands on one
of them little lovelies, u’ll end up back in outer space. Rolling around slowly
and divinely with faraway planets. That u dimensional guises r acclimatised too.
So u’s run it thru u to just
do u inner-outer exercises and concentrate on u I am. Not a body mind, I am
made of Light affirmations. When the gang bursts into song, u don’t hesitate to
bellow along with them.
“I love the universe!,” u sing
with disciplined gusto.
“Oh I love the universe!….And
the wucken Sarge too! I really, really wucken do!”
“Sing that song again u
wuckers! Sing it again and double time it to the wucking firing range! Stop at
the blanks supply depot first. Hip hop hop! Hip hop hop! Left right! Left
right! Come on numbers 3, 4 and 5! Pick it up! Pick it up! What the wuck do u
think this is?! Cuntry wucking Week or something! U r in the cosmic army now
Privates! So move those wucking legs! Stretch those hamstrings! U’s bunch of transcendental
motherwuckers! Move!!!!! Left right!!! Left right!!!! That’s the way u wucking
do it!”
“Yes sir Sarge!,” u and the
others roar.
“I love the universe! I love
the universe!…..,” u’s goes as u picks up the tempo along with the others. But
thru it all, u r still wucking smiling like a backyard wucking galah. And so is
everyone else. Except the Sarge of course.
He’s still scowling and bellowing and putting on a show worthy of a
trillion tons of Oscars. Falling down from heaven onto his ugly wucken head.
The
Commandant’s Got A Problem
Back in the office, the
Commandant is looking out of the window at u death squad drilling. He is
actually fixated on the Sarge. The Sarge’s file is in his hands and he is fully
aware that the Sarge is long overdue leave. In fact, the Sarge has enough leave
accrued to take the next 100 million years off.
“TJ! Book the Sarge in for an
1800 today will u please,” the Master telepaths to the attendant outside. The reply
is instantaneous and also telepathic.
“Done Master!”
As u gang goes out of visual
site, the Master turns to the screens which were hidden from u. During u short,
though most rewarding visit. The Master can see anywhere in the camp and the
cosmos on his screens. He can measure the thought temperature of the Earth
hologram and get other Earth stuff data anytime.
He runs a diagnostics check and sees that the thought temperature is
still pulsating at 33 and one third %. That is, that fraction of Earth humans
could be put into that scale within that fraction. Of being slightly awakened
to cosmic consciousness, or very awakened to it.
The rest at the moment, do not even register.
Although the Master is not
technically thinking, using thought words. A vision runs thru him of when the
thought temperature will hit 100%. A smile comes onto his divine face. Then he
will take his long overdue leave too. Ah! That will be so nice, he tells
himself, in his own way.
With his wise old hands behind
his back, he allows contemplation as to where he will go and what he will do.
Some fine planets, magnificent dimensions and interesting universes appear in
his attached mind’s eye. Holiday destinations galore roll around his soul and
there is certainly a sparkle inside about that. In the meantime though he is
focussed on u squad on his screen.
In particular, he is looking
at the facial expressions of the players. So green, he thinks, sort of. Kids
really. None of them have so far shown the slightest aptitude for beedie
smoking. Enormous potential there, no doubt. But they’ll need transient looking
after and careful guidance. Swell bunch of kids though! Real smilers! Goers!
Keen to get on with the game.
They will need priming and thank God that u’ve got the Sarge and others
like him. To do the heavy work of drilling them all up for a shot at the
Matrix. This is what u r thinking sort of, as the Commandant. Or Master.
U recall that u told 41 that
he may have to come back as an arse wiping sleeper again. But this will not be
the case with u. Someone has to do the celestial office shit and it sure looks
like that someone is u. The body that u r in does not require food, though u
stll take fluid and therefore urinate. U told the company heads long ago that u
were finished with arse wiping. So they said ok, do it u own way and do it
here. So u did. They gave u a quandrant to look after and that’s what u’ve been
doing. For God knows how long now.
U have been ploughing the plough.
U r so designed though that in
meditation u can visit anywhere that u wish. All of u holiday destinations u
can go to in u astral body. U just can’t stay. Because company business in u
quadrant always brings u back. The other thing is, that being in a male
humanoid body, u r prone to cracking the odd fat. Or horn, as the so called
humans sometimes call them.
It usually happens in deep
meditation, though sometimes in the early morning too. It doesn’t bother u
because u get none of the mind stuff that goes with it. The body just gets a
horn. Sometimes u watch them come and go, wondering what all of the fuss is
about. Long ago have u abandonned desire. Long ago did u give up seeing bodies
as bodies.
Exceptionally advanced r u in
seeing the Light in every consciousness vehicle that has clothed itself in
matter. To work diligently and patiently with it so that it should come out.
Show itself in all of Its divine glory. Express Itself, party and play. If u
didn’t agree with this company policy 100%, then u wouldn’t still be working
for the bastards and bitches. And u most certainly wouldn’t tow the line. Nor
enforce it. Nor tolerate Adolph. U QCG, u General Quandrant Manager.
Who is forever baiting u about cracking the odd fat. Thinking about
Adolph, u get a blast of intuition, and then it happens.
“Commandant!”
“Yes TJ?”
“It’s General Adolph sir!
Huffing and puffing on line 1.”
“Ok TJ! Thanks.”
U’s turns to a real big screen.
On it there appears to be what
looks like the flight deck of some enormous spaceship. There is a circular ball
of Light in the middle of the screen. It is almost the size of a soccer ball
and is moving around, then stopping. It suddenly comes right up to the
forefront of the big screen. Centre stage like, and stops dead. It is the
General. A collection of dieties evolved way beyond the desire to wuck with
matter.
“Ah Fred!,” u hear
telepathically.
“We trust that things r
rolling along nicely with u and that u r not getting too stiff anywhere!”
“Thank u General! Everything
is fine sir!”
“Look Fred! We’ve just been
looking at u file and u r long overdue holidays! U know?"
“Yes General! But u know?!
Bunch of new young green recruits fresh in, u know! None of the wuckers even
know how to smoke a beedie! U know, they’ll need careful tending. When the time
comes, I’ll take the hols General. Like I’ve said b4.”
“Fred! Everybody here is aware
of u noble intentions to see out the entire mission there! To see the Earth
fully thru to fully ripened cosmic consciousness. What we r conveying though is
that if u or any of u over worked staff should require respite, then for wuck’s
sake let us know! U r one of the best that we’ve got Fred! U’ve hung in there
when others have fallen by the wayside. The company holds u in the highest,
highest regard.
The last wucking thing that we want though is that u should go wucking
feral on us! Because of too long an exposure to a 3rd dimensional
helix.”
U guess what is going on.
“U’ve had another outbreak
General?!”
“We sure wucken have Fred! We
lost a whole solar system to wucken ferals! We had them reaching for the sky
and then b4 we knew it, they were burying themselves in the dirt. And howling
at the moon again. Some of them even went back to the trees! Wucken hell, it
was a right old abortion. 17 planets! Sploooot! Down the wucken holographic
drain! Over wucking night.”
“What happened General?!”
“Wuck knows! The labs r saying
that there was some wuck up in the DNA of the politicians on the lead planet.”
“Sounds plausible General.”
“Yes, it does, doesn’t it?
Look Fred, we won’t beat around the bush. Ferals r a nuisance and we r
concerned about them and their connections to mineral water.”
“Mineral water?!”
“Oh come on Fred! We know that
u’ve got bottles of the stuff hidden away. And we know that ferals will dip
their head into any creek, or they used to. B4 they became too polluted. Now
they r all on the bottled shit as well! But u know company policy. The
celestial officers have to drink the heaven sent rainwater. Because that
retains their sky links and forges them to us and the company. The officers
have got to stay away from the heavier Earth bubbled up stuff because it
grounds them too much. There is a danger that it could ground them to that
point where they’ll turn feral.”
“There is no proof of that
General!”
“Just because u r’nt running
for the gate with brothel intentions doesn’t mean that others r’nt Fred! Let us
tell u! We know the Earth spirit connection buzz that u get from ingesting that
stuff.”
“I actually think that it
helps General! The Earth spirit and I get on just fine. We have some good chats
and keep each other company.”
“Maybe so Fred and maybe u can
handle it. But others can’t.”
“It’s my secret General! And
it’s my right to talk to Kali Maya if I want to.”
“Well what about the wucking
Sarge?”
“Which one General?!”
“U know who I wucking mean
Fred! O’brien!”
“He hasn’t touched a drop for
6 weeks General!”
“Well! We guess that seeing as
u r the boss down there that he won’t be touching it at all Fred. Considering
what’s on his record with regard to previous episodes when he has.”
“I’ll see to it General!”
“Thank u Fred. And look after
uself too. Whatever u do, don’t get a boner out of proportion about anything.
Life just wasn’t meant to be that serious. We’ll be in touch. This is command
out.”
Later that day u go thru the
motions again with the Sarge. O’Brien that is. U tell him that he’s got a heap
of leave owing and he tells u about how raw and green the latest bunch of
recruits r. He tells u what a swell bunch of kids they r. Always smiling and
ever keen to play the game of cosmic consciousness. U tells the Sarge that the
company holds him in the highest regard, which is the absolute truth.
The Sarge is one of u finest officers and a real goer for the cause.
The Sarge tells u that he appreciates u passing that on. Then u’s brings up the
issue of the mineral water. U shows the Sarge the graph that shows that every 6
to 7 weeks, like clock work. He seems to have an episode with the dreaded
mineral water. Of course u can fully understand, having developed a little
habit in moderation of u own.
U only tot the stuff though.
Just a couple of little ones around sun up is all that u get into. Then u and
the Earth spirit, Kali Maya generally have a chat about what the day may bring.
U see, u r that used to blowing consciousness out of the body’s crown and
wucking with the celestial stuff. That going the other way into the centre of
the Earth is a big drawcard.
U know though that the Sarge is a binger. And that if he touches a drop
he’ll finish the wucken bottles. Every time too. But u r the Commandant also. U
r the Master and it is up to u to sort the Sarge out. If not, u r fully aware
that u r gunna have Adolph barking on down the line at u. About wucking ferals.
So it is at this point where
we pick up the conversation.
“If u just had one Tom! Not 7
or 8 or 500 or more! It wouldn’t be so bad,” u hear uself saying.
U r at u desk and the Sarge is
sitting in a chair on the other side of the desk. His head is down, as though
he has done wrong. His big jutting jaw looks lopsided. U’s gets up and goes to
him and puts a hand on his left shoulder.
“Tom!,” u says gently.
“I know what’s going on! Every
time that u lose a few recruits to the ferals, or u get a bomber. (A player in
the cc game who falls down the big hill and has to start again.) U’s loses it.
U can’t take it personally Tom. U know that! U can’t let it get to u. U know
that they’ll get to play it again, that it just wasn’t their time. For wuck’s
sake Tom!
In the last bunch u lost 3. 3 out of 45 Tom. That’s bloody marvelous
work Tom! U r to be heartily congratulated.”
“Should be 45 out of 45 sir!,”
Tom mumbles to u. “They r just kids sir! Sending them back to that 3rd
dimensional shithole with no memories that they even gave cosmic consciousness
a go is unfair. It’s cruel! They r just kids!”
“That’s nature Tom! U’ve just
got to get used to it!”
“Wuck nature sir!”
“Well the so called humans
can, but we angelic hosts can’t. Can we Tom?!”
“No, I suppose not sir.”
“I tell u what Sarge. Why
don’t u up the social side a bit with the bunch that u r training up now. Mix
with them a bit and really get to know them. Maybe that will bring u the 45iver
that u r dreaming off.”
That sets a sparkle off in the
Sarge’s eyes.
But u add.
“But if u r down the Clubhouse
Tom, stick to the wucking rainwater! Ok?”
“Yes sir!,” Tom roars back at
u.
“Ok Sarge. That’s all that I
wanted to say. Apart from that, I transcendentally love u and keep up the good
work. The company loves u too and sends u their best wishes. Disssssmissed!”
“Yes sir! Thank u suh!,” goes
Tom as he salutes, turns and marches for the door.
“Tom!,” u says just as he
opens it.
“Suh!”
“I don’t want to lose u to the
ferals Sarge.”
“No chance of that suh!,” says
the Sarge as he opens the door.
“Well u just watch what u and
Kali Maya get up to Tom!”
“Who suh?!”
“Oh wuck off Tom! U know full
well who I mean. Our mutual friend, the Earth Spirit. Oh!…..Get u wucken arse
out of here Sarge!”
“Yes suh!”
“And don’t give me that yes
suh wucking shit! U just stay away from that beautiful bitch! Don’t let her
talk u into doing anything stupid! U do u best work for the cause right here in
this boot camp Tom!”
“Yes suh!”
U stare at the door after u
top gun, hard yakka worker is gone. U have a little premonition of corporeal
trouble. Long has the company had a problem with angelic hosts succumbing to
playing with sentient desires again. Adolph and the rest know what they r on
about. It is not a battle of good versus evil like the so called humans have
dreamt up. It is a battle though to convince androgynous souls that they don’t
necessarily have to wuck with clay though.
Moths r to the flame as souls
r to sentient experience, matter loaded holograms. U know what’s coming. The
flesh is as much of a drawcard as the spirit is, because the two r really one.
U can smell it. U just hope with all of u heart that the Sarge can remain
strong and fight off his desire to go all of the way with Kali Maya. Because
from where u take u stand, there could be nothing worse in the cosmos than
actually rejoining thru projection. The so called human, insane matter
programme.
And having to roam the lonely streets and fields as a separate
identity. And worst of all, wipe arse again!
Shit a wucken brick! The very
thought of it sends a cold celestial shiver down the body’s spine. To dance
with the so called humans, u know, is damn super tough stuff. And if u had any
enemies, u wouldn’t even wish it on them. As for wiping arse, well u’ve been
there and done that. And from where u take u stand, u’ll never wucken do it
again.
U don’t care what Adolph says or what the Earth spirit whispers to u.
About the glories of being sensual. U’ve done u time with shit coming out u
arse and mouth, and u r not doing it again. And that’s wucking final.
U r made of Light and when u
make a decision, it stands. Forever. U never compromise I am Light. Never ever.
U r the Commondant and about a quarter of the universe is dependant on u for
its very survival. U have to keep u end up in the sky and assist with the
running of the works.
U road the River of Light all of the way into the guts of the Shoreless
Ocean. U live only to pass it on that the Great Void is the place to be. As
much as u wouldn’t mind a roll and a tumble with Kali Maya, that is not u
function. Just because a celestially divine lady has got lots of arms, doesn’t
mean that u have to wipe arse again for her. Not from where u take u stand.
Rumblings In The Barracks
It is 3am, 3 days later.
U r player 41 again in the barracks and every player is on their feet.
It’s a circle of naked bodies around u and 23. U 2 seem to be the focus of
attention. The weather lately has been stinking hot. Which is why u r almost buried
in sweaty pussy and sweaty dicks, some short, some not so short. Dangling tits
r everywhere too, some rather big, some not.
Some inbetweeners r around u flanks too.
The Big Brother cameras have
zeroed in. There’s tidbit titillation every wucking where. U though r not
looking at those items, even though both u and 23 still have u uniforms on.
Nudity is not u concern here, only the truth is. U r in animated conversation
directed at the head level of the group. They appear to be intensely consuming
what u r saying.
This is the first time in u life that this has ever happened, but u
don’t care about that either. All that u want to do is to tell the others the
story of what has just gone down in the last 6 hours. When u, 23 and the Sarge
went down to the Club to sink a few pints of earth or sky charged up water.
“I am telling u’s all!,” u
says with vocal gusto.
“When we went to his room to
ask him if he wanted to go and sink a few down the Clubhouse, I thought that
something was up. He was reading an astral letter and looked kinda depressed.”
“So did I!,” 23 explodes. “He
seemed to hesitate and I ain’t never seen the Sarge do that b4. He’s normally,
u’s know, so much in control.”
“Well I’m telling u’s all, he
wucken wasn’t tonight!,” u roar.
“He went wucking apeshit but
he gave us a wucking eye opener into what’s coming. Wuck! I tell u’s, I
wouldn’t have believed this in a trillion wucken years!”
“41! For wuck’s sake! Will u
tell us what happened!,” Number 9 says to u.
“I’m trying Brains! I am
trying!”
U’s slows down into quiet to try and hitch up u rampant rampaging
excitement.
“We got into the Clubhouse!,”
23 tells them. “Just after 9 it was. Everything was fine for the first hour. We
sank a few and played darts. The Sarge was great. Real happy and loose, not at
all like the authoritarian bastard that he usually is. Then 41 saw him switch
drinks….”
“U mean…..he…….,” 17 kind of
asked and insinuated at the same time.
“Yeah!,” u explode.
“He broke their taboo! He hit
the wucken mineral water! Boy!
Did he wucken ever! I don’t
know how many the bastard had. Once he had the first one, he just kept going
around the Clubhouse switching drinks with all of the non coms. Well, we
couldn’t wucking stop him! I kept saying to him.
Sarge! Sarge! Slow down, for wuck’s sake! U’s stupid motherwucker! But
he just took no notice. It was like he was super pissed and on 100 tabs of LSD
at the same time. I tell u’s! He was a wucking riot! The things that he came
out with b4 he started growling like a grizzly bear and……..”
U pause here remembering the
moment. U can still see like a photograph in u head the incredible expression
on the Sarge’s face as he went for it. Wuck it was awesomely mischevious. Like
he’d put the Mask on and turned into Loki or something. He’d winked at u 3
times when he put the supposed to be show pony of a bullet in the gun.
“B4 he wucking what 41?!,” the
platoon all ask u at the same time. All except 23 that is. She’s just standing
there smiling and laughing.
“B4 he grabbed one of me
pearls!”
“Ay whot!”
“And loaded the disintergrator
bullet into the chamber!”
“Whottttttt!”
“It’s the absolute truth!,”
says 23.
“Then he pointed it at the
dart board and spun the chamber.”
“How’s about a bit of wucking
Russian roulette u wucking wuckers! That’s what he yelled out at us b4 he
pulled the trigger the first time,” u cut in and tell all and sundry.
“Wuck!,” 23 resumes.
“The lean and lanky barman
from Uranus went bewuckenzeerk. He threw the towel away that he was wiping the
glasses with and jumped the bar screaming at the Sarge to cut it out. He was
yelling out to him that if he wucken did it again, they’d kick him out of the
corps. The Sarge just told him to wuck off back to wucken Uranus though. Called
him a wucking volunteer current as well. Then he squeezed off another shot and blew the dart board away.”
“Wuck, did he wucken ever!,”
u’s tells them.
“He wucking disintergrated it,
well and truly. He Daffy Ducked it!”
“What do u mean 41!,” the
super intrigued mob fire off at u.
“It just left a circular white
hole in the wall!,” 23 shrieks at them.
“A white hole!,” the mob
exclaim.
“Eyep!,” u and 23 go together.
“A wucking white hole!,” u say
in unison again.
“The wucking Sarge reduced
that dartboard to pure wucking consciousness!,” u 2 inform the platoon. Who r
all standing around with sweaty tits, dicks dangling and mouth’s agog. Like
they r about to hitch a ride with the universe or something. Above u’s heads,
the fans, like wheels of karma. R not so silently circling and whirring. Some r
going clockwise. Some r’n’t.
“Jesusssssssssss!,” they sigh,
like a mob of ex pats.
Who have just been told that
they can go home because the dickhead dictator is dead. Or has been surgically
removed, along with a lot of dough. At this stage of the proceedings, everybody
knows that it’s time to talk to Brains. Otherwise known as Number 9.
Brains is called for and duly
steps forward. A stick figure really. A short pretzel of a creature with huge
glasses on a huge tiangular shaped head. The arms of the creature go up in the
air as if controlled by strings. They r so thin, yet have a reputation for
having robotic insides. Out in the field, Brains can slog it out with the best
of u’s. He has the added gift of being an exceptionally clear and super
intelligent thinker.
Or a mathematically intuitive reader of strange and tricky occurrences.
Brains begins to ask u and 23
a lot of questions. About the circular white hole that was left in the wall,
when the Sarge blew the dartboard away. U and 23 tell it short and neat. That
it was about 2am when he done it and that the joint was deserted. So only u 2
and the lean and lanky barman from Uranus who was polishing the glasses, seen
what the Sarge done.
23 tells how u 2 stuck u hands
in it and how they just kept going. U tell how u stuck u whole wucken head into
the hole and had a squizzy. U tell that all that u could see was pure Light.
There was no horizon, u explain. There was not a named shape of a thing in
sight. There was just nothing except Light.
Did the Sarge say anything about it? Brains asks u. No, u inform him.
He didn’t get time. Because it was then that the 9 foot tall Saturnian MP’s had
burst in thru the front doors in riot gear and carted the Sarge off to the brig.
After one of them somehow closed up the white hole, by just looking at it.
“Did he resist?,” Brains asks.
No, u inform him. He couldn’t
because he’d passed out straight after he’d done the dirty deed.
They’d just rolled him onto a big stretcher and 4 ot them took a pole
each and spirited him away. U tell Brains though that the MP’s were carrying on
amongst themselves about the Sarge having another re run with the turps. They
seemed to think that it was quite humorous and commented that they wouldn’t
like to be in the Sarge’s big boots in the morning.
“I need to do some wucken
calculations quick!,” Brains suddenly explodes. “Clear the wucking table!”
So that’s done and the big
drawing paper is rolled out full spread across the table. It all looks like
something from a cartoon. Someone fetches the crayons and Brains selects a
colour. He turns and puppet like, makes for the table. Both his arms and legs r
going up and down and his head is doing a pigeon bob. U can almost see the
ethereal strings that r keeping him going.
“Make way for a beautiful
mind!,” some amongst the crew call out.
“Come on! Look sharp! Clear a
wucking path!”
Brains reaches the table and
begins scribbling down numbers and symbols. His pace is lunatical. U and the
rest r totally bemused in the first 5 seconds, but Brains seems to know what
he’s doing.
Next minute, he’s up on the table on all fours with the back of his big
scrotum sack talking turkey with rest of the universe. His big balls r
dangling, one on top of the other.
Like they r copulating or something.
It’s an absolutely appalling
sight, but no one wucken minds. That much really. Because no one is viewing
themselves as being in a body. Although secretly, most would have preferred
that it was a female up there. But not all. And anyway, like and dislike r only
there to be killed, everyone knows now. Having got this far.
Within ten minutes, Brains has
exhausted every spare inch of table paper, so he is carefully guided by 14 and
15 to one of the walls. They hand him a new crayon. His old one being somewhat
wucked. It’s like Brains is in a deep hypnotic trance or something. His eyes r
flying saucers. Is he ever spaced out and switched on, is the buzz that is
going around.
He’s channeling the esoteric
number and symbol dope at a wucken furious pace, is Brains. Like spectators at
a big golf tournament, u and the rest of the audience r following him around.
Within an hour, he is doing a Michaelangelo up on the roof. U don’t want to
know where all of the scaffolding came from to have him flat on his back up
there. Because half of u bed is missing. But wucken Brains is still going for
it.
U’ve never seen anything like
it in u life and u probably never will again. Until u crack the Matrix. And do
all of the maths and rest of it for uself. After 3 hours at a super cracker
pace, an exhausted Brains collapses on to what’s left of his bed. With his back
propped against a wall full of number and symbol babble, he gazes out into
space. He looks like a rag doll. He’s totally wucking exhausted and spent.
Trance like, he begins to
mumble, though no one can understand what the wuck he’s saying. Until finally
he gasps.
“Somebody bring me some water,
for wuck’s sake!”
So that is done and Brains
duly recovers. Everybody welcomes him back from his Shamanic episode where he
swum naked. With all of those impressions. Brains smiles and runs his palm
balls over the tops of his guns. Everyone else does the same. Quite a few pull
out their former show pony, now known to be supra powerful disintergrator
bullet.
They roll them around their fingers some and some put them into their
mouths and suck on them. A bit. It doesn’t taste like metal to them anymore.
Those gold bullets don’t. They taste like the unknown glory that they have been
hunting for a long time.
Which in the glorious cosmic
consciousness story, translates as the known that has been forgotten about. And
had the so called and shit filled, crusty human word reality, super imposed
over it. By thought form language.
U as citizen 41 r one of the ones that is standing there sucking on
golden bullet, right now. U r there in all of the numbers. It tastes like Snow
White’s fanny against u tongue, the disintergrator bullet does. It has that
after tang of being precious to u everloving soul. Like the ring was to Gollum.
U r a citizen of the cosmos and this story is becoming more and more,
every wucken letter. That gets added. Packaged this and that way around in
concept laden words, which reveal the themes in u life, your wucken story. The
story of a mighty evolutionary, revolutionary, cosmic consciousness warrior. In
the middle of a bunch of exactly the same kind. Of thirsty for transcendental
exploration into the mystical realms again, beings.
In short, the Earth game sucks
and if there r better games in the universe. Then for wuck’s sake, bring them
on. Because Earth is too violent and too boring, and the re runs just lead into
more re runs.
It really is one for all and
all for one now. That is all that u know. The team is a platoon and the platoon
is a team. It has melded into one mind and one body and Brains is the current
mouthpiece. Because u r inner-outer. U r in the story, and u r out of it. Isn’t
that so? That is life! When u r dreaming it all up.
A mind with even just a tad of imagination can create an entire
universe. That’s how u got here to the road that lead to cosmic boot camp.
Lucky, lucky u.
That is what is going across
your telex of a mindscreen. It is good to be an I am and that is all there is
to it. B4 anything, b4 even the cosmos, cometh the I am. It is all that u’ve
got, the rest of it all being total mind prefabrication. Nothing but
multifarious forms in a dreamscape of a landscape. Blanketed by a blue to grey
or black is black sky. Where all of the light in the universe has receeded into
Its twinkling stars.
In this game though, it’s all
that u need and circumstances warranted, u still can’t stop smiling. No one
gave u u I am and u’ve always had it. B4 body birth u had it and after body
death u will still have it. It is just a speck of Light, like one of the
receeded stars in the night sky.
It sure feels good to have it straightened out and on u side now
though.
When u say I am these days, if
u must follow it with words. U’s makes damn sure that it’s something wonderful.
It feels real fine to direct all of u negatives into a positive white hole,
that dissolves them. Instantaneously too. U looks across at Brains and good old
Brains, he never looked so beautiful as he does this dawn of a morning. I am
really living now, goes thru u psyche like a steam train. I am in with the in
cc crowd does too.
U’s fondle u guns some more,
u’s just can’t stop uself. I am gunna get me a Matrix and blow the wucken shit
out of it, goes thru u head. That’s what I am wucken gunna do.
“It’s as I wucken thought in
the wucken beginning!,” says Brains.
Aha! Goes across everyone’s mindscreens. Here cometh the final answer!
Here cometh the final lesson in looking for any external authority to sort it
out for u.
“We’re in another wucken
hologram!,” roars Brains.
“It’s exactly as the wucken
Sarge says! The only way out of it is to get back to the bare I am and go
searching from there. A quiet mind is what u need. Not a beautiful one. U need
a mind that can give u one foot out and one foot up witnessing, always. If u
stay in, u wucked! U r there! In so called human’sville.
A quiet mind that knows how to
put up with 3D distortions and illusions, that’s what u need. One that can ride
it out until I am Light takes over. That’s what u need. We must all be
extremely careful fellow players in selecting our donkey minds when we finally
get to play the real game. Extremely careful! U know what I mean? U know what I
mean? U know what I mean? U know what I mean?”
“It’s ok Brains! We know,” 23
says gently to him, with a soft hand on his shoulder. Brains relaxes and turns
a tender loving eye towards 23.
“Do u get it luv?!,” he says.
“Do I get what Brains?,” she
askes him.
“The bus luv! The bus that
brought us to boot camp luv!”
“What about the bus Brains?!”
“That’s just it luv! It wasn’t
a bus!”
“Well what the wuck was it
then Brains?!”
“At a guess, I would say that
it was a flying saucer.”
“A flying saucer!,” the entire
platoon shriek as one.
“How’d u figure that out
Brains?!,” many a mouth with a golden bullet being rolled around in it and head
or arse sucked, asks.
U r Brains, u r number 9. U’ve
had a shit of a wucken shit of a life up until now. U’ve felt separate and
alone and freakish. U’ve spent most of u life inside this joint or that
scribbling. In the last few weeks though, u’ve never felt more at home and
accepted. Goddamn if u don’t love the transcendental folk around u and goddamn
if u don’t wish that u had something besides wucken words. To convey the
picture that has formed in u attached mind to them.
“It was easy!,” u tell them
all.
“Once I figured out that the
hole that the Sarge opened up closed inwards towards its centre and not in a
clockwise or anti clockwise motion, it was a cinch.”
“How’d u wucken do that
Brains?!,” 41 asks u.
U shrug u shoulders.
“I just did,” u say, with
another shrug of u powerful shoulders.
“Or rather, some force came in
and did it for me. It pushed the energy thru the body that moved the crayon
around.” U add.
“The spirrrreeeeeet!” Everyone
kind of whispers.
Yes, u tell them. Correct. The
same force that can save u from being in the wrong place at the same time, or
find u something when u need it most. Did all of those calculations.
“So from this fact I can draw
only one conclusion!,” u roar. Trying to introduce a bit of drama as u head for
u punch lines.
“What’s that Brains?!,” they
all ask u.
U’s looks around and jeez, if
u soul just doesn’t almost melt. Such smiling faces surround u. Kids really, u
tell uself. None of them no how to smoke a beedie properly yet. A swell bunch
of beings to be doing cosmic boot camp with though. U transcendentally love
each and every one of them to the shithouse and back. U do. God! They just give
u so much positive spiritual reinforcement, whilst u’s uncontrollable genius
pours forth.
“This is not Earth!,” u tell
them.
“There’s no way that we could
be on the Earth right now. A holographic hole in the Earth hologram would close
in a counter clockwise direction. Unless my maths is wrong, but I don’t think
that it is.”
They all look at u with stunned expressions on their faces.
“Wuck a wucken duck!,” 41
explodes.
“The wucking wuckers have
wucken abducted us! Without our wucken permission too! So much for the rights
of so called humans!,” he gesticulates to all and sundry.
“It looks that way.” U say.
“Suits me!,” coughs 16. “Bye
bye to nothing, if u ask me!”
“Yeah!!,” comment others.
“I’ll miss the beach though! I
love to show me tits off!,” 3 quips. “They r amazing holographic
constructions!”
“Here! Here! Here!,” goes the
house. Where no one is sitting.
“I’ll miss clouds and
waterfall sprays!,” says 4.
“So where do u reckon we
really r then Brains?!,” 44 asks u.
U leans back. Confident in the
truth of what u r about to say.
“I would say 44 that we r on
one of the big mother holodecks of a big mother of a wucken mothership! That’s
what I’d wucken say. So there’s no doubt that we r all being groomed for cosmic
consciousness stardom. As to whether or not we will all be going back to the
Earth though, who knows? U know? U know? U know? U know? U know?”
“Yeah! Righto Brains. Switch
off mate!,” 23 says to u.
She’s good to u that one. U
must admit that she shares her affinity and that her tolerance is absolutely
first class. She just points out u little disability for u and the others, but
she never highlights it. She’s a mate, she really is. It’s funny. The moment
that u stopped focussing on her pussy as real pussy, and switched to
recognition of artificial construction.
Being generated by u own I am,
or rather u attached mind. That’s when it really clicked for u that she was the
Light, just like u. That there was no separation between u and her or anyone
else. That names and shape only appear different, like different coloured
paints appear on a canvass. But u know that it is all the same paint and that
the true artist is a collective. Of all of u KSS’s put together. U’ve always
had a dream woman in u brain and 23 sure comes close to it. But then something
happens that will turn u entire world upside down forever.
U see another her, sitting on
the table. U cry out and point her out to the others, who just don’t see her.
She’s sitting Guru like on top of the same table which u just buried in numbers
and symbols. She’s got more arms than a football team and she’s truly awesomely
beautiful. U feel drawn to her as if she is the centre of the universe.
Her multitudinous arms r
flaying the air, as if she’s dancing or something. U swears that u can hear the
sounds and smell the smells of the mystical heritage of India. She looks at u
and says, “Number 9! Number 9! Number
9! I am Kali Maya! How do u do?! How do u do?! How do u do?!”
“Very well m’Lady!,” u’s
answers her with starstruck eyes.
Because she just looks awesome
and she’s lit up just like the Commandant was when u had u interesting little
parlez with him.
The others meanwhile r staring at a vacant table and some of them r
shaking their heads. U know that they can’t see her yet, but that they soon
will. One of u puppet hands comes up and a boney finger points like it did for
ET.
“Kali Maya! Kali Maya! Kali
Maya!”
That’s all that u can say.
In The Brig
“Ohhhhh!,” groans the Sarge as
he opens his eyes. He is flat on his back on a bunk in the brig. He is the only
prisoner.
“Ohhhh wuck a wucking duck!”
Slowly he sits up and braces his back against the wall. It is now that
Kali Maya appears in front of him.
“M’Lady!,” he gushes,
absolutely stoked with her patronage. She is as beautiful as ever and as usual,
all of her arms r dancing.
“Tom!,” she says.
“How many times do I wucken
have to tell u’s! If u desire an audience, just have a couple. There is no need
to bomb uself out.”
“Sorry m’Lady! I don’t know
what came over me.”
“Well I do Sarge!,” says Kali
Maya, gliding forward.
Within seconds she’s sitting
on the Sarge’s lap. Her hands r all over him. Massaging his shoulders, stroking
his hair and caressing his brow. Her bum is throttling into his thighs and she
is jiggling it around.
“U got some bad news didn’t u
Tommy? Another bomber ay?!”
“Yes m’Lady! Poor bastard went
back to the 3rd dimension and went into politics! A waste! A wucking
waste of a damn good player. A few more breaks and they would have made it.
It’s bloody unfair m’Lady! The system sucks!”
“Well u r talking to the right
girl about that Sarge! But u know, it’s like I keep on saying. I would
absolutely love to have u come down to the Earth and work for me. I could use a
guy like u down there, I surely could.
I could give u sex and drugs galore for years Tom, and then u could dry
out and wake up. And give me cosmic consciousness on the surface. Wouldn’t that
be nice!”
The Sarge shrugs his big
shoulders.
“Oh m’Lady,” he says. “U’s
knows I’d absolutely love to help u out down there, but I’d be wucken useless
as a human! I just couldn’t do that shit anymore. Me and the old man r the same
that way. Nahh m’Lady! It is here that I do my best work and it’s here that I
should stay.”
Kali Maya moves her butt around a bit more.
“R u sure about that Tom?,”
she asks him.
“Well, I am pretty sure,” says
Tom.
“If our little plan doesn’t
work, will u reconsider Tom? U know, I am dying. If they don’t give me what I
want, I will not be able to resurrect myself."
The Sarge looks up and sees a
tear slide across his beloved’s face.
His soul just about melts at the sight of this planetary damsel in
distress. Tom is a Light knight from the sky. There is no doubt about that.
“M’Lady!,” he says boldly.
“If those wucking currents
don’t give u what u want then u have my word that I will go feral and wipe bum
for u!”
“Thank u Sarge,” she says as
she plants an affectionate kiss on his big cheeks.
“Awwww shucks Ms Maya!
Gollllleeeee!” says the Sarge.
“I’d only be doing my cosmic
duty!”
“Like wucken hell u would!,” a
voice from outside the cell doors roars.
“Wuck!,” explodes the Sarge.
“It’s the wucken old man
m’Lady! U’s had better get off me!”
“Why Tom? Don’t u like having
me here?”
“Well it’s not that m’Lady.
It’s just that I am getting a bit stiff. The old groin has been giving me a
spot of trouble lately. Half way thru meditation sometimes. Some lingering
memories from some lives that I dun a couple of thousand years ago, just keep
rolling across this attached mind in m’dreams. I keep seeing myself in bed with
this beautiful Egyptian lady. She’s a so called human. I’ve got the boner of
the century and well, wuck it! She’s just got a luscious flower full of
etherial honey inbetween her legs.
She wants to suck me dry of
the stuff that she needs. The body that I am in wants to fill her up with more
life. Till she explodes with it. The 2 of us r just running on wucking instinct
really. It’s a frightening situation and the big boner on the body won’t go
away. Neither will she.
She’s always there somewhere about the place and I am always
anticipating what she looks like with her legs wide open. Even though I’ve seen
it and blown the beans of the body into it lots and lots of times.”
“No wucken wonder that u r
wucking screaming at the troops then Tom!!! With all of that hanging around. I
think that I will get off u then, my good friend. Come and talk to me about u
problem later, perhaps I can do something about it.”
“Yes m’Lady. I will.”
“Kali Maya!,” roars the
Commandant as a big Saturnian guard hurriedly opens the cell door for him.
“U r a bitch Kali Maya! Get
off the Sarge! And stop giving him those good old days dreams. This was not
part of the deal. U cannot, under any circumstances have the Sarge in u Earth
holographic cesspool. He works here! In Etheria. Come on! Get off him! U… u
feral swamp temptress u!”
“Who is going to make me
Fred?! U and what army? The Salvos?!”
“Be reasonable Kali! We r
risking our careers to get u this audience with Adolph, and then it is up to u.
U know that we r on u side and that we will root for u as best we can. But u
know what wucken Adolph’s like! They don’t like to break from tradition.”
“Well put it this way Fred! I
am going to make them an offer that they can’t wucken refuse!”
“Kali! Kali! Kali! U know who
u r dealing with?! U know the enormity of their celestial power?!”
“Oh I know Fred! I know! The
question is though, do they know who they r dealing with?”
“Kali!!! U r the most
beautiful creature around here. When it comes to the sky hierarchy moving its
arse though, there r limits.”
“Fred! There r no wucking
limits! Isn’t that the essence of the real game that u teach? Don’t be a wucken
hypocrite! U know as well as I do that if we don’t get cosmic consciousness to
the ground pretty wucken quickly, then we’re all wucked!
We may as well all pack up and
go back to Etheria right now. Because I can’t take much more of what the so
called humans r doing to me, as a planetary body. As a 3rd
dimensional hologram. U know that Fred! U r looking at the data every wucking
day. On u wucking big screens!”
“I know Kali! I know! Cool
down! We r all dying together and we always have been. As ideas of the mind
translated into and fabricated as pictures. With apparent 3D depth. Now u know
that!
So don’t call me a hypocrite!
I am, that’s all. And we 3 r the gang of 3 to them now. So maybe if we all
front up together, all lined up nicely for them, we may be able to swing
something. We can only give it our best shot luv! Now will u please get off the
Sarge because I fear for his astral and etherial life right at this moment.”
“No need for that suh!,” says
the Sarge. “I know full well what my duty is.”
“I know u do Tom! That’s not
the point. The point is that she’ll make u stiff sitting on u like that. U know
that if she clothes herself in matter that she can do that Tom?!”
“Shit happens with corporeal
weight suh!”
“Yeah! And ferals have to wipe
their arse too Tom.”
“Shit happens in 3rd
dimensions suh!”
Kali Maya hovers upwards and
hovers over to the Master. In a second she’s giving him the strokes all over
the place too.
“U r an old wucken old blowbag
fart Freddy!,” she says to him.
“U r a wucking con man! U sit
in that office 24/7 playing with u big screens, pretending to work and dream
about u wucken holidays. And sometimes u just sit there and watch u willy go up
and down.
That’s wucken real
revolutionary wucken behaviour that is! Jesus Christ! The wucken 5th
dimension will be here in no wucken time! No wucken time at all! Get off u
wucken arse Freddy! Why don’t u come down to the beautiful Earth and work for
me?! Something tells me that u would be a bit of a hit down there. I could sure
use one or more of u kind down there, right now. Freddy darling.”
“Kali!!!! If I told u once,
I’ve told u a 100,000 times. I am not wiping arse again for anybody! U know
that I love u as I love my own soul as I love the company, but I just couldn’t
do it.”
“R u afraid of Adolph Freddy?!”
“U know that it has got
nothing to do with fear Kali!?”
“Don’t u like women, football
and hip hop?! Or hip hop, football and women?!”
“Oh for God’s sake Kali! Don’t
u ever give up? U know that I have gone way beyond like and dislike! I have my
function and it is here. U’ll never make a feral out of me. Never! I’ll never
stick a body dick into another body again. And I’ll never ride a dick or do
anything else as another body with one of them again.
Vaginas r finished for me
Kali! Finished! Of what use have I for vaginas, dicks or bum wiping or anything
else? When I can cruise the Void. Anytime, anyplace, anywhere?”
“Yeah! But u can’t wucken stay
there Freddy! Can u? Not until we get this wucken crazy joint sorted out.”
“Shit happens Kali Maya!”
“U r a throwback Freddy! U
belong with Adolph and the rest of that stiff upper lip, celestial wucking
gang. Talking to u sometimes is like talking to the arse end of a dog.”
“Oh wuck off Kali! I am
nothing in particular, yet I am!”
“U wuck off uSelf Freddy! Come
on Tom! Gentle spirits first. Mother wucking pikers at the rear. Make way for
the ones who do the real work. Stand aside Judas Freddy!”
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Excuse me suh!,”
says a highly amused Tom as he follows Kali Maya out of the cell door.
Smiling like a sewer rat about to get a rut he is. Smiling like he
ain’t done nothing wrong at all. Not a single damn thing. That Sarge, he
treated the wucken system as if it was only there to be gotten rid of. And he
was riding high with his Lady.
He could smell some 45iver action coming and his nose was twitching.
Some’in’ fierce.
Half an hour later, the 3 of u
r in the Commandant’s office. Adolph is on the line and they r not at all
happy. Aside from a meeting face to face with Kali Maya not being due for some
time, there is the issue of the mineral water. And the Sarge’s abominable
behaviour in blowing the dart board away and stirring the troops up. With
information that they weren’t due to receive for another 2 weeks.
The 3 of u r lined up like schoolkids
in front of the big screen. The ball of Light is going all over the place, as
though it is somewhat agitated.
U r now Kali Maya and u know
that this is u last hurrah. Adolph has already bawled the Sarge out and
threatened Freddy with a reduction in his leave loading. If the Sarge negative
gears one more time.
“Excellency, I know we r not
due to meet for some time, but the matter is extemely urgent!,” u say to the
big moving dot on the screen.
“Urgent Kali Maya! Urgent! Do
u know that we lost an entire solar system to ferals the other day?!”
“Yes, I do excellency.”
“Yes! Well!”
“The facts of the matter r
Excellency. That if u don’t give me some cosmic consciousness to play with
pretty soon, this entire hologram is going to go down the drain.”
“Down the drain Kali Maya!
Down the drain! U know the tradition Ms Maya?! The onset of cc must be left to
the evolutionary electrics in the holographics of the game level. It must creep
up very, very slowly over billions of years. Then explode spontaneously and
magnificently into a prolific bloom. Of accelerated, expanded awareness. Of
cosmic matters.”
“So what! U r gunna give me
one in another 500 years r u’s?!
U wucking motherwuckers! Jesus or Buddha or someone else will be back
in the middle of the millennium. Is that wucking it? Because if it is, they’ll
be coming back to sweet wuck all! I am telling u’s.
This is a fact and there can
be no argument with a wucking fact! Go and sniff my oceans! Go and try to drink
from a creek or river! See if u can live in any city without hitting the
bottled stuff that thins the blood. Go and taste my soil and u shall see! That
this Lady with a lot of arms does not speak with a forked tongue. I am no
Indian giver like some about the place!
I do my job and I do it
perfectly because I am a dedicated follower of the Light. Rising up within and
exploding forth from my very worthy subjects. To be a so called human is not a
sin. It is to have the guts of the universe inside of u body. U know that
Adolph!”
“Pardon Kali Maya! What did u
wucken call me?!”
“For wuck’s sake Kali! We r
supposed to be at peace with heaven, not at war with them!,” Freddy whispers to
u. Like Strop used to whisper to Crocodile Dundee. Right out the very edge of a
severely drawn out gob.
“Excellency! Forgive my divine
rudeness but it’s just that I am so tense these days. It’s life and death down
here Great One. That’s the problem. It’s super serious stuff and there really
isn’t that much fun to go around.
My crew can’t play the sort of
games that u and the rest of the crew in Etheria can. That’s the point though
Great One. It’s my gals and guys first cosmic right to be able to play Etherean
games whilst they r still attached to the matter body.
Shit! They’ve done their time on the rockpile that is the third
dimension. They’ve earned their shot with the hard currency of the very blood
that fills up their attached bodies. And the nonsense that is a word language
sucked, like dust or fluff, into a 3D mind. And I still want to be here so that
they can play the higher games. When the naughty little wuckers wake up to the
fact that they r dormant cosmic consciousness, that is.
But Excellency, I have to be here so that my wards can finish their
amazingly wucked self consciousness game off. No me, no wucking game! Great
One.”
“Oh! Hmmmmmmnnnnn!
Eeeeeeeyyyesssssssss! Your point is taken Kali Maya. U turn ferals into beings
whose Light stretches from one end of the cosmos to the other. We know that. We
appreciate it. U r a good sort Kali Maya. We all luv u.”
“Please Excellency! Luv isn’t
what I need. I need cosmic consciousness!!!!! Look at the base mental-emotional
level of the average self consciousness, so called human! For wuck’s sake, u
may as well give me wucking secondhand plasticine to play with. I’d probably
get further with it than I am at the moment. And that is no lie.
Look particulary at those who
r high up in the artificial power chain pyramid. Look at the ones who organise
and order the killing. See who they r in league with. Not the Devil, but some
very grey types. Then drop by those places where they store their military
arsenals. Then tell me that I am wrong. But I am telling u that u will not be
able to. What I am telling u is that now is the only time if u really want to
do something about this super stressed out hologram. Excellency. Otherwise we
may as well all pack up now and come home.”
U’s says it all as u finishes
with a little bow and curtsy. U arms going absolutely everywhere. The picture
of the sentiment of a true princess of pain. U’s knows that u’s has come on a
bit too strong, but Adolph just has to be there to rile u. The wucking
celestial monarchy gives u the shits sometimes. They always have.
They r just not in touch with
what’s going down amongst the grass roots. It’s the matter of fact tone that
they use that’s doing it. That gets u in the guts. It’s the, it has always been
done this way bullshit that is starting to make u arms move faster. God that
stuff sickens u. Because it just gets u good people nowhere, and makes it so
easy for the wicked and cunning items. To rule in state mad gangs.
U can feel the Sarge and
Freddy gently elbowing u in the ribs. U can hear them whispering to u to cool
it. But shit, this is u last hurrah. It is now or never and u have no choice. U
just have to go for the jugular. There comes a time in every universe when the
sky has to give up its secrets. And u know that that time is now. If u have to
suck them down and paste them onto u Earth, well then so be it.
U r not a door mat just because u r 3D rock solid. U r macro-micro,
made of Light. And the wuckers owe u because u breed magnificent expressions
for them to populate the cosmos with more Light. They wucken owe u’s and that
is all there is to it.
“Cosmic consciousness is
already on the Earth Kali Maya!,” Adolph says to u.
“Where!,” u’s fire back at
him.
“In the back streets of some
wucking Indian boghole! On the wucken internet! I need Harry Potter, the
President of the USA and 007 to develop cosmic consciousness! I need it to be
advertised on the wucking tv! I need it to be the only topic of conversation in
every lounge room, supermarket and street corner. I am inner-outer, I am not
just inner, has to become the normal attitudinal vision. I need babies being born
with this attitude! And I wucking need them now!”
“There is no need to scream Ms
Maya! Please remember who u r talking to! Now who or what is a wucking Harry
wucking Potter?! Who or what is a 007? Who or what the the wuck is a President
of the United States, Kali Maya?! Is that some sort of rich, trumpted up God
down there who starts wars off for their richer, super greedy gang friends? Is
it?”
“Oh never mind about them
Excellency! They’ll all be dead and buried b4 too long, one way or t’other.
Look! I am telling u straight out. If u leave this hologram to evolution then
there won’t be anything left of it soon.”
“Oh come, come Kali Maya!
Surely it can’t be that serious.”
“Excellency! I am telling u it
is. My back is against the wall. Either u give me cosmic conscious citizens
immediately or I am going to have to cull! Because we r only years away from it
being them or me.”
“What?! Nonsense! Our data
doesn’t show that!”
“Excellency, that data is
wrong. It’s the other data that Fred keeps giving u that u keep ignoring that u
should be looking at. 33 and one third percent means nothing to me! I am living
it now and I am telling u that the situation is already at crisis point. It has
been for some wucking time. It is either cosmic consciousness, or cull and
start again. That’s it for wittle Lady like me!”
“Well, we suppose that we
could let u have a couple Ms Maya.”
“A couple! R u joking! This is
the 21st century down here General! Not the wucken 1st!”
“Well give us a number then
Kali Maya!”
“45! To start off with. Then
45 every 5 years after that until the entire field of self consciousness is
levelled.”
“Whotttttttt! 45! Can’t be
done Kali Maya! Impossible! There r too many planets going around and around
that need there one in every 500 years prophet quota. We can’t sacrifice the
universe for one planet!”
“Yeah! So I raise them, then u
pinch them off me for some one percent evolved joint! That is full of feral
barbarians who r still running on candles, swords and cruxifixions! U’s should
call uselves wucken Victorians! Or set up a date for the final battle in u
insane holy war! U’s wucking currents!
U’s act like stupid cosmic
white and all other coloured men sometimes. Me, I am barking for peace of the
soul because here in OUR backyard. They r running on nuclear bombs, viruses,
cloning and Christ or Buddha knows what else. That they’ve wucking dreamt up.
They r wucking mad! That’s
what I am telling u. They have gone beyond insanity! They r armed to the teeth
with stuff that they r nowhere near ready for. They know how to split the atom.
Yet find it impossible to stop their minds wandering around a positive to
negative circus. They have the emotional stability of a supernova. Their
mentations r like bowel action quicksand.
I am a quick step away from
the wrong sort of mutations showing up General! What’s the point of that?! Why
not have a fully ripened Earth full of citizens with cosmic consciousness? To
provide u’s with an abundant supply of cosmic labourers.
Who r all Masters and Goddesses
who will promote the interests of the Light company undyingly forever. Because
that is the logical and rational alternative. From where I am taking my dying
stand. Why put me in the position where I have to wipe them out again. Because
once again, their dreaming ignorance got the better of them?”
At this point there is a break
in transmission as the General goes to confer with Council regarding u
extraordinary requests. U have given them transcripts of u whole plan to study.
The maths is there too. U and u 2 very supportive spirit bloke friends spend
almost a nervous hour waiting and then Adolph comes back on line. The boys stop
patting u arse and saying well done u fiery articulated mouthpiece, then it’s
down to business again.
It’s better than the 6 o’clock
news though and there r a few big shaker surprises thrown in. It’s better than
u ever could have hoped for really. It is the green, go go carpet. It’s full
steam ahead for Earth ripening with mass cosmic consciousness.
The bastards and bitches have not only seen the sense in u plan and
endorsed it. They’ve also given u full camp rights and selection power.
Now u can show up wherever u
like and talk to whomever u like. U no longer have to play hide and seek
because of old fart celestial laws. That Adolph has been sticking to like glue.
Stuff that used to govern the creation, evolution and destruction of holograms
is now gone. Senile tradition has been killed by the truth.
As well, u find out that Adolph is going on immediate holidays and that
u will now be working with a collection of dieties called Cheryl. This is a
real boot for u. Because Adolph was a wucking ultra conservative pain to work
with.
U will be working closely with
Cheryl. A lot closer than u ever worked with Adolph. Of particular importance
to u both will be the placement on Earth of incoming citizens endowed with
cosmic consciousness. Cheryl is introduced to u. U 2 immediately hit it off and
get into a raging discussion regarding the placements. Some will go east, some west,
some north and some south.
The Master and the Sarge join
in. Keen to get their 2 bits worth in they r. About which environmental areas
should rear them. For they will never come to fruition on any battlefield.
There is much cosmic excitement in the air. The whole game has changed charge
in around 60 minutes.
U r back in transcendental love with the sky powers again. They r
incredible in that they can provide that super quick break that turns it all
around for u. And charges u right up again. Ready to host the next step up
level game for creatures in bodies. A lot wucken smaller than yours. To have
the real sky powers on u’s side. To have then pumping unseen power galore at
u’s.
Is a big plus. The one that will tip the scales.
The Sarge knows that he’s got
a 45 coming. So he’s happy. The Master knows that some holidays won’t be too
far away now. So he’s happy. And u know for sure that the so called humans will
do u justice by creating an Earth full of cosmic consciousness. So u r happy.
There will be no need to cull them then.
U can hold back on the fire and the water and this makes u even
happier.
U can continue to keep the big
space rocks away with u powerful magnetic vibes. U hate killing. U'd much
rather see the angel glow around the crown of an awakened so called human's
head. U’d much rather see that inner-outer glow around the babe’s head.
That’s what u live for. That’s
why u roll on and on thru the deepest, darkest spaces known to man or woman. U
r Kali Maya and everybody knows. That u can and will beat the odds. With a
little help from cosmic consciousness. And 7 or so odd billion, so called
humans.
An
Ecstatic Sarge Pegs Brains Back
U r 41 again and u r lined up
with the others outside of the barracks. The Sarge is 45 minutes late for
assembly and many r saying that he is not going to make it. A rumour is already
going around about a replacement probably showing up. Everyone is getting
figedty.
“What the wuck’s going on
there?!,” an enormously loud voice from across the quadrangle suddenly booms
out. Everybody eyes right and spots the Sarge storming across the dirty great
big yard. He’s miles away but the glow around his head area is clearly visible.
It is obvious that he is as happy as wucken Larry, about something or another.
“The wucken Sarge!,” u’s quips
to 23.
“Goes into the Tiger’s den and
comes out looking like Jesus Christ! Or Buddha! Or Nisargadatta. Or one of the
others. How’s his wucken form 23?! I thought for sure that he was a wucken
goner!”
“Me too 41!,” she replies. “U
know, I think the bastard’s the Ghost who wucken walks, talks and yells! He’s
the wucken phantom’s Phantom!”
“Stand up straight laddie!,”
the Sarge roars as if on cue from 500 metres away.
“Get that wucking big gut in and
get those wucking so called human shoulders back! U r’nt a wucking suffering
animal, r u?! U r in the cosmic army now son. U r a transcendental spirit. So
what about looking and acting like it?! U wucking current!!!!! Straight I said!
Straight laddie!!!”
“Who the wuck is the Bull
screaming at?,” 7 asks.
“Wucked if we know!” go 3, 4,
5 and 6 simultaneously. Like they’d rehearsed their answer or something.
“Good old Sarge!,” says 17.
“He knows how to kick arse when it comes to stuffshirt rules and regulations.
He set the infamous Dartboardgate Affair all up I reckon. To give us early
insights into the game. The Sarge is our good mate people! He’s a hero!”
“Yeah!,” says 36. “ And he’s
almost hero wucking here too!”
“Did u wucking hear me 13?!,”
the Sarge bellows like a syphilitic bull as he closes right in.
“R u made of wucking spoofless
plasticine?! Straight laddie! Stand up straight! Like u r a rocket about to
blast off out of the wucken Earth hell hole! That’s better! That’s better! Now
u look like a cosmic soldier and not like a wucking puffed upright, empty
condom.
That some pissant wucken breeze is blowing around! Righttttttt!,” he
ejaculates as he wheels around in front of the group.
He’s done something different.
He’s showing everyone his arse and his right hand comes out. A stiff, loud
finger click is heard. One 90 degree finger of transcendental authority points
like a death of trouble to the ground.
“Number 9!,” he bellows.
“Front and centre! The rest of
u at attention! Straight 17! Straight! Let’s have none of this pretending to be
bad luck cursed like 13 was! Next wucker that slouches gets a good stiff kick
up the wucking ring! U got that! U wucking currents of Light!”
“Yes sir Sarge!,” u’s howls
back, along with the rest of the crew.
The Sarge is so loud. His voice, it booms around. Like that of some
sort of wrathful sky God. And it wucken hurts u ears and rattles u brains. The
wucken Sarge is a wucking current and everyone knows it. He's a right bastard
when it comes to enforcing the discipline necessary for Matrix blowing up. A
benefactor who both looks and sounds like a dragon. On wucking heat.
Gingerly, Brains steps out of
line and puppets his way up towards the Sarge. His arms r out again at 90
degrees again, like something unseen in the air is holding them up. As if the
Gods of Olympus r walking him around on strings or something. He takes three
steps and then skips the next 2, then repeats the pattern. Eventually he is
eyeball to eyeball with the Sarge. Well, almost that is.
“Shades off soldier! For
wuck’s sake!,” says the Sarge.
“Uh! Sorry Sarge, I forgot,”
Brains answers him.
“Listen Number 9!,” the Sarge
starts up.
“I heard a funny rumour whilst
I was in the brig! One of the guards told me it. A big Roger from Uranus
actually. Yes! Roj told me the strangest tale. To cut a long story short
Brains, he told me that some skinny little wucking current had scribbled all
over the walls and wucking ceiling of my wucken barracks! Now I had to ask
myself Number 9, who in my mob of 45 would do such a despicable wucking
thing?!”
“Uh! I cannot tell a lie suh!”
Brains blurts out.
“I dun it suh!”
“What’s one of the first
things that u usually get a walloping for when u r a little so called human kid
Brains?!”
“Uh! Shitting in the bath
suh?!”
“Stretch it out a bit will u
Brains?! Go beyond the anal, for wuck’s sake! The old world is back there and
dying magnificently, u know that!”
“Uh! Drawing on the walls
suh?”
“That would be correct Brains!
Drawing on the wucking walls. Let alone the wucking ceiling! Like u wucken dun!
Now, something else about this skinny little wucking current that I heard about
from that Roger from Uranus. Was that the shitty arsed, little stick of a prick
spilt the beans and stole my wucken thunder! As regards to informing the troops
about the nature of white consciousness holes. In holographic constructions.
That close inwards towards the centre of their vortex. And not clock or counter
clockwise.”
“I cannot tell a lie suh! I
wucken dun it! The spirit made me suh!”
“Oh! The spirit’s to blame
then is it Number 9? And which spirit might that be then? Not one that u’ve
invented to kill u naked wucking ego guilt, I hope. I mean, u r not a wucken so
called human anymore. R u Brains?”
“No suh! It was Kali Maya suh!
She sucked it all out of me and then waved goodbye and disappeared. Like a
specialist cosmic girlfriend or some’in’ suh!”
The Sarge’s eyebrows go right
up. This was something that he didn’t know and it pleases him immensely.
“Yes. She has a bit of a habit
of appearing and disappearing with all
of her charges Brains. Including me. Don’t take it personally, she’s a very
busy spirit Lady! Very busy indeed. Did any of the others see m’Lady manifest
Brains?,” he asks.
“No suh! I was the only one
who saw her. She’s so beautiful Sarge!”
“Oh! She surely is laddie! I
tell u something else though, she’s got brains as well. Lots and lots and lots
of them. I’ll tell u something else too. I don’t have to wipe arse again for
her now! Wuck that was close! She almost got me again with that little, itty
bitty tear. Running down from her eye.”
An enormous sigh of enormous relief is expunged from the Sarge’s lungs.
“Goodie! Goodie! Goodie!,” he
roars.
“I escaped with a Houdini,
thanks to Cheryl and her illustrious gang.
Yipppeeeee! U wucking little
bewty!!!! I can stay in the 4th, with a foot in the 5th.
Gollllleeeeee! I am off the hook! U current suckers, er…I mean, u’s tremendous
gals and guys r on it. In other words. U’s’ll all be wiping arse again b4 I
ever will. And Cheryl is an absolutely magnificent entity to work with. She’s
proactive and I do so like that. They r such fun!
Not at all r they a boring old
fart like Adolph was. God! Did that bastard of a bitch ever need to take a
holiday into eternal infinity. May they rest in peace in whatever wucking
universe that they’ve gone touring in. I pity the poor wuckers who have to put
them up and play host to them when they visit too. They were ok in the
beginning Brainsey! But they just got so wucking boring in the end.
It was like having some sort
of Dark Lord, not an angelic Light up there. Oh wuck me! This is going to be a
great evolutionary revolution Number 9! It is going to be absolutely wucking
wicked around here from now on Brains. Absolutely wucking wicked! We’re gunna
have some wucken fun, let me wucken tell u. U little, scribbling prick! U’ll be
too busy shooting word conceptualisations to wuck with mere drawing, from now
on.”
Brains is at first a bit
perplexed about what the Sarge is babbling so excitedly about. Though, true to
form he soon susses out that there has been a change of guard at the top end.
And that the Sarge is pretty happy about the changes. That no doubt will be
being introduced. He sorts all of this out in an instant and then gets a
powerfully strong image of Kali Maya. It is plastered all over his mindscreen,
like a pin up of his favourite divine girl.
“Uh! Do u think that we might
see her again Sarge?,” he asks.
“Somehow Number 9, I do get
the feeling that u will be seeing her around the place! As a matter of fact,
here comes m’Lady right now. She’s come for inspection Brains, so do get back
into line. U and the others have got some painting to do later today! U
whistleblowing little shit. Now fall in! And keep u wucken arse clean from now
on! Or I’ll boot it all of the way to the blanks supply shed and back. U got
that u cosmic soldier!”
“Yes suh!”
“Well them, wuck off!!!!”
Brains never moved so fast in
all of his life. He was back in line quicker than a low down, dirty rotten,
shit for brains politician can start another war.
“Kali Maya! Kali Maya! Kali
Maya,” he says standing as straight as a pine tree.
“Wuck me! Kali Maya, she’s
coming! At long, long last!”
There is no real need for him
to say anything though. Because all of the others already have their eyes right
with absolutely awed and floored looks on their faces. They have never seen
such grace and beauty hover over terrestrial ground. The glow around her head
area seems to reach the sun. She looks like a lot wucken more than a slice of
heaven. She looks like the whole lot of it.
“Get u wucken eyes to the
wucking front! Attennnnshun!,” roars the Sarge as Kali Maya hovers in to stand
beside him. Her arms going everywhere at once as usual. With that Mona Lisa
wucking expression still plastered all over her gob.
There’s a bit of Whistler’s
Mother in there as well. Plus a princess or 2 shows up now and again. 3, 4, or
5 Queens inhabit her. U can’t leave them out any more than u can scientifically
prove that only one dimension exists. If u think that matter, energy, space,
time and dimension is all there is to the universe. Shit a brick! U may as well
top uself right now. Because the will to live is so intricately tied in with
spiritual desire and spiritual advancement.
Leave the spirit out of the I
am, I exist equation; and u r nothing but the living dead anyway. In fact, the
living dead is the most spiritually truthful thing that u can say about so
called humans. The death of the I am a body mind construction thought baloney,
whilst the heart is still beating. Is to grasp profound wisdom, for those who
do the dare to go there. So u r gunna kill u 3D self and its mungrel 3D world.
So what?!
A bunch of words and images
die as the sky Lights up. From all around u head to infinity. What’s the harm
in that? No pain, no gain. No death, no rebirth. No words and images and u just
return to u natural state. Which is pure Light. To play as the single one and
the Lot simultaneously and instantaneously, is cosmic consciousness. It is the
paradoxical flower within. U cosmic seed.
From the first imprint in u
cosnciousness until the conglomeration that u have in their now. It’s all been
about cosmically expanding u soul into cosmic awareness. U see? U have always
been playing the Real game. Only now, it is starting to tutti frutti like hot
up. U’s transcendentally loves it, u really do. It feels just right.
“M’Lady will inspect the
troops!,” the Sarge roars.
“Thank u Tom,” she says
quietly to him.
“Tom!,” everybody whispers.
“So that’s the bastard’s code name!”
It has to be faced. Yelling is
yelling. It’s offensive. Unless u r saying I am Light that is. Like u wucking
should be. 24/7, times 52, times u life span. It is all that is really worth
screaming about down here. Sooner or later it has to be faced. U cannot impart
reality to a mind tool generated, holographic dream forever. Death cuts it, but
u can fix it anytime with I am inner-outer Light. And when u do that, even the
sky has no limits.
In fact the sky is exposed as
being part of a hologram that u as KSS r projecting. U have cast a net and to
catch what u want, u have to kill Word Volcano Mountain. U have to kill it, all
dead. U have to gun down words as if they were nothing but low down, dirty
rotten. Unbelievably sky God wucked up, shit for brains terrorists.
Or likewise minded politicians, or violent to u mouth, dentists.
U have to show absolutely no
mercy. U have to kill them all as ideas in the mind. Until all that u have left
is I am. Then it’s really game on. All of the fortitude in the universe will be
yours and nothing on Earth will be able to stop u cosmic roll then. U’ll be
surfing the River of Light in no time.
A Beaut Little
Pep Talk From Ms Kali Maya
“Good morning everybody!” says
Kali Maya.
“Good morning Ms Maya!,” u and
everybody else says back to her.
Everybody’s smiling that way that suggests that they’ve just had some
extreme good fortune.
“Now crew!,” she says.
“We r here to explore cosmic
consciousness! R we not?”
“We r Ms Maya! The wucking old
world stinks of too much so called human shit! The whole wucken joint sucks of
a putridly sick, egotistical selfishness. That promotes and prolongs suffering
and war! We loathe politicians vehemently Ms Maya and we don’t like mungrel
dentists either. They should be all lined up and spirit shot along with the
terrorists and all of the war mongering, capitalistic shit on Earth.”
U’s tell her spontaneously, with the rest of the gang.
“Yes! Well never mind about
that,” she says straight back to u’s.
“That will be taken care of in due course. What I am after now is for
somebody to tell me about cc. What about u Brains? Let’s have your definition
of what it is that u r all chasing. As though it was the elusive butterfly of
transcendental love.”
For the first time in his life Brains looks stumped. The people can’t
believe his hesitation.
“Uh! Supra expanded,
consciousness awareness m’Lady!”
“Yes! But I need more Brains.
What about u 41! What say u?!”
U’s flinch. M’Lady has caught
u off guard, just like a supercosmicbitch would. U’s didn’t expect her to ask
u. At least not so wucken soon. Could it be the brute that u didn’t put on this
morning? U’s asks uself. Could that be why she’s onto u so early in the wucken
day?
“Uh! Being happy and being
full of bliss m’Lady! And flying around and not having to wipe an arsehole
too!,” u says. With raw, rugged enthusiasm. Plus an enormously looking forward
to it drool on u gob.
“Yes! That is all true,
sometimes. Unless u r a 3D feral on u way to cc. But I still need more 41. 17!
Let’s hear what u’ve got to say?!”
“Uh! Surfin’ the River of
Light straight up the guts of the Shoreless Ocean of Light m’Lady! That’s what
cosmic consciousness is all about. Blowing u heart then blowing u mind and
going transcendentally tripping in luscious, mystical realms!”
“Yes, true, true. But consider
this. U cannot know cosmic consciousness, u have to be it. U cannot know u
Self, the Real, u KSS. U have to be it. U have to be the Great Reflector and
not the shitty arsed little reflection. U have to play as the ocean, not the
transient, born to die wave. In effect, u must destroy the observer-observed
illusion and enter that realm of truth where u r inner-outer, and beyond it
all.
From outside it u appear to come into it, but only thru the inside, can
u get back out. Of a dimension full of paradoxes. Ruled by a mind tool. But
powerless and non existent without the spirit.
So, my counsel is that u take
every thing that u have ever felt, thought, seen, sensed, learnt or experienced
and….wucking forget it! Throw it away! Heave it overboard. Get rid of u
alphabetic symbols and distracting, manufactured abstract languages. Words will
bring u nothing but more words and the pain that goes with them.
Wuck them all off pronto! Nothing in them or their manufactured
sadsack, beguiled by horror concepts can prepare u. For the infinitely eternal
scope of cosmic consciousness. Nothing!
Totally let that language and
picture reinforced world go as being artificial and irrelevant to the real game
which u r being trained up for. Get up in that movie house of thunderingly loud
words and sounds that u r in and walk out of the wucking door! Of the 3rd
dimension. Step out one foot sideways, one up, into the 4th
dimension and witness with affectionate detachment. Live as the next body of u
spirit, not the skeleton cladded body of organ-ised, blood filled flesh.
It is the only way to go in
the real game. If u r truly sincere and earnest about getting uself to the post
Matrix level, then this inner-outer reality is for u. Because simply put, it’s
the truth and u r all truth trippers. This I know, for fact. And there can be
no wucking argument with a wucking fact!”
A loud mumble goes around the ranks. Transcendental love is talking.
“Quiet!!! U wucken horribly
beautiful animals!,” roars the Sarge.
“There’s something else that u
need consider!,” says Ms Maya. Flinching a bit from the Sarge’s loud voice.
“U r always Light. U already
have cosmic consciousness! What u need to do is to get rid of the abstract word
language that is fooling u into believing that u don’t have it. This is the
paradox of all paradoxes. Is it not? That the net of words that has trapped u,
is u own doing. And seeing as it is u own doing, only u can destroy it. Savah
crew?!”
“Yes m’Lady! Savah!” u yell at
her super happily along with the others. Christ knew that there was nothing to
know in a hologram. So did all of the cc greats. U and the rest of the troops r
all absolutley dripping with astonished excitement, now that u’s all know
nothing too. U’s is all sniffing mighty strongly that the start of the real
game is coming up, real wucken soon.
She suddenly turns golden and
her light show is really bright. Especially coming from behind her head area,
it’s like a sun rising, or something. She starts to hover back and forth in
front of the gang. Almost as though she’s pensive.
“U see,” she says. “U got
taught I am inner. As a little sheila or bloke, that’s what u got fed. Ignorant
bullshit from the trough of the so called human ferals. There is no one to
blame. The net is a thick one and everybody gets caught up in it.”
She stops in the middle again
and drills everyone of u’s in the eyes. There is wucken contact a plenty.
Everybody is totally transcendentally in love with her. They know who she
represents. They know it’s payback time. Not one soul standing would not give
her another 3rd dimensional life, if she requested it. If she asked
them to surf the River of Light and then return to the 3rd dimension
and totally destroy it. They wouldn’t hesitate.
Despite having this other
fondness for the higher games. They’d do it. If she aked them too, they’d wipe
arsehole again. They’d experience that horror so that she could Light up on
payback day. The silly wuckers! Why in hell would they do that?!
When all of those other, alternative, wonderfully magical. Soul
uplifting, mirthy and mystical, other higher holographic games exist.
At levels where they for real can
be got at. If the mind tool is exploded and brought back to the just off the
assembly line. Most peaceful, so silent and quiet. I am in love with this
universe of nothing state. Where an unbelievably powerfully loving Light
hovers, 24/7. At the 360. The mind bathes in the darkness that It projects as
shadow. Waiting in the bliss of the silence, to be called for service.
Now if u were a mind tool
citizen, for real, player Zero. Would u dig being attached via intent to a self
consciousness, flesh particle? That is all wrapped up and buried in the anxiety
of the drama and trauma. Of its own invented cosmic, survive it if u can.
Horrible, pressure cooker shit of a 3D staged, mindfilm play. Playing as
separated, isolated and alienated existence. Meshed in with the mind dreaming
of a whole host of other Kid Soul Spirits. Who r just basically wucking around,
playing a cosmic game.
Looking for a cosmic break in one of numerous projected holographic,
dreaming lives.
Where a breaker body mind
machine would rather cling like a lover that just will not let go. To I am
cosmic consciousness. Where if u just keep going I am inner-outer Light over
all of the words of doubt, pain and JOY. Then u will neutralise duality and
some wonderful, wonderful shit will flood spontaneously and effortlessly into u
life.
Because if u can play as the
Light that hovers at the 360. Identify who u really r as spiritually divine
essence from there. Then the Matrix will be toilet paper for u. U will have
bumped uself up about a trillion Earth holographic lives. Within the space of 0
to 70 odd years. Not bad ay?! Hard to knock a planet that gives u such a
wonderful shot at so super developing u Light body.
R u gunna come back to this
stinking wucking shithole of self consciousness to play with Kali Maya again
then? When she calls u’s into her sentient, scented zone. We’ll wucken see!
Won’t we player ZERO?! U may even find out the truth that u’ve already wucken
done it. And the supercosmicbitch is just giving u a little wake up and reminder
call, that u have already wucken done it. Time to live up to u wucken cosmic
contract. That’s what she’ll be whispering to u in u dreams and the corporeal
information. That’s flooding thru u psycho-psychic senses. These days. Look!
Seek, and u will find that bliss spot where u will never , ever have to seek
anything again.
Everyone is a lunatic when
they play self consciousness. U can’t play self consciousness on Earth without
having the selfish lunatic in u somewhere. That’a a big bug that u gotta kill,
with I am Light. The mind is not a lunatical device. It is just a device. The
ego invented in it though is the most destructive item in existence. It can
blow up an entire universe and melt a cosmos.
Everyone standing at attention
is really Ms Maya’s divine slave. Not one mind minds. Everybody is willing.
Everybody is gung ho for the peaceful restoration of the Great Lady. To her
former pristine glory too. She’s owed a debt and she’s gunna get paid. Big
time. When cosmic consciousness cleans up the so called humans. And shafts
their barbarian practices.
Everyone knows the first rule of the universe. Clean up u own wucken
stinking back yard of hypocrisy first, b4 u travel to anyone else’s back yard.
And start telling them how wucking great it is where u come from. And how much
they could borrow from u, if they had any sense. Only with cosmic consciousness
can u do this. Without the root of the pitch being exploitation for the
purposes of making material profit. Within the Animal Farm.
To do it with so called
democracy or anything else is dreaming hypocrisy, illusion and inhuman. All of
those who believe in self consciousness systems, isms or sky Gods who license
murderers. Will be shown at death that all that they have been doing is playing
a silly holographic part in a rotten holographic play. Which Orwell rightly
called Animal Farm.
When u die, u salute u soul,
not a wucken flag. Stick with I am and drop the rest. If u want to make it thru
this wucken mess. That has the word life attached to it. That’s the way that u
do it! It sounds bizarre, to put uself in complete and utter reverse. And deny
reality to everything that u have so far imparted reality to. Yet could it be
any more bizarre compared to what is going on around u and inside u? To keep
those 2 realms dead separate is to die again. To unite them in the Light is to
live u cosmic consciousness destiny out.
“Here and now though!,” Kali
Maya says.
“Thru the grace of u KSS, u
have realised I am inner-outer, made of Light. U know that there is more of u
out of the body mind than in it. U know that u can in identification start with
the universe and work in. Because the mind can and does cover that range.
Instead of starting with the so called human body and working up, u have gone cosmic.
U r dead fortunate to have
been exposed to so many mystical secrets. Still it was u bent, so the real game
is u due. U know that u can have it both ways because the truth is that u r
both ways. U know that u can swim in consciousness if u want. U can swim all of
the way to the Light of u awareness beyond it, if u so desire.”
A loud chuckle goes around. Everyone is looking forward to doing some
ethereal swimming.
“Quietttt!!!! U wucken animals
of Light! How many times do I wucken have to tell u’s?!,” roars the Sarge
again.
Kali Maya flinches heavily. First to the left, then to the right. Then
back into dead neutral. Her arms swish the air gracefully as she does so.
“Tom!!! U just about blew m’
wucken ear off!,” she says, sounding really pissed off. “Could u tone it down a
bit laddie? There really is no need to roar like a lion about to mount a
lioness, u know? I’m not! It’s a wucking wonder that u’ve got a wucken throat
left Tom….,” Kali Maya admonishes him. With one of her many fingers in one of her
2 ears. Trying to stop the ringing.
“Uh! Sorry m’Lady, of course,”
the Sarge replies. Looking a trifle embarrassed.
The crew all chuckle because
he just got pegged. Everybody smiles some more. The Sarge though just gives a
wink at u’s from behind her back. He starts patting the top can of a huge pile
of paint, that that Roger from Uranus and this big mother of a Saturnian have
just unloaded. From a company saucer. He can’t down u though. Everybody is too
high. Painting is painting, so what? U just dip the brush in and go slip slop
slap. Just like the mind tool does with consciousness. It’s easy. Paint Light
over those numbers and letter symbols and u can start again with a brand new
screen. That’s plan X. On the road to cc.
Which has got to be better
than having plan wuck all in self consciousness. Look after this life as best u
can and the next one will look after itself. Without bothering u at all. I am
Light brings u into the exact present and kills the karma cancer. It’s an
overide programme where u see the entire cosmos as one big picture. That moves
u attached body around. U do nothing, except hand u entire identity over to It.
Until u become It.
It’s a 10 star birdseed
programme for the human spirit birds of Earth. Some say that this programme
first came the way of Uranus, though others say the Venusians were the first to
experiment with it. Which suggests that the original design came from somewhere
else. Whatever. Some Indians got hold of the I am path and turned it into an
art form. Ask them who they r and they will say that they r no one in
particular. They r just the one, where the first letter has gone capital.
“Everyone, including ferals,
have a thing about their mothers. Male of female, this holds true. Girl or boy,
it stands. All look for unconditional love. Either to weasel it out or bitch
extract every last drop of it anyway that they can. Out of mum. Whose real
dream is to be endowed with cosmic consciousness. Not to be some sort of unpaid
and overworked matriarch whom everybody thinks exists only to whinge too. About
their poor me, struggling little self consciousness stories,” says Kali Maya.
This makes us all go quiet,
when she says this. We know that she has changed tact. We can detect something
different in her voice. It is like a plea to please come back and play some
more down on Earth after u’ve cracked the Matrix. There’s something else that
we detect too. In the undercurrents of what she is saying. It’s that some of us
will not have a choice.
As said b4 this bothers no one. An amazing smile comes across m’Lady’s
face as she realises that she is talking to ready, willing and able,
volunteers. She pumps out a big 360 wave of one after the other, transcendental
love vibes. They r loaded up with the unconditional stuff.
Nisargadatta, Buddha and
Christ! We’s all just about melt in our most worthy spaces, and so does the
wucken Sarge. Who is grinning in the most mellow fashion that any of us has
ever seen. As though he is bathing in a divine golden glow that he hasn’t bathed
in in a long time. Because old fart wucking laws said that she had to hide
herself.
U can look at bums, tits, curves and bulging crutches full of anything,
anytime on Earth. When u see all of those cosmic arms going for it though,
that’s when u know that u know real sensuousness. U know that every arm
represents a billion years of so called human history. Or Eve olution. Take u
pick. That’s what it is all about. The choice to get back on the road to cc. Or
to keep wucking around with the illusory dramas and traumas of self
consciousness.
U got a cosmic bird inside of
u. It’s a golden colour. If u don’t let it out for a sweet little fly around
soon. Then it may just bust out and go flying around without u. Like it does in
part in u dreams every night. In u dreaming thoughout the day too. It is always
in-out to u, wucken around. Scrape away the low down, dirty rotten old paint of
the 3D picture that u r seeing or living. U will see it exposed. As nothing but
pure Light. The body that u r attached to the same. Everything the same.
Everything is made of pure Light. And it is all u as Self, the Real, the KSS.
Wucking frightening, until u
get over u being excluded fears, let go and become used to it as simply the
truth. Therefore nothing in it is killable and to try and kill anything for
real in it is pure illusion. As much as r flags and sky Gods. Money, prestige
and so called mortal power. It is all dreaming and the most important thing in
it is that u remain true to the spirit of u transcendental love for all that is
u Self. Which is basically everything that the cosmos has to offer.
“I am the Mother of all
wucking mothers!,” Kali Maya tells u.
“I would never deny u though the freedom and the liberty to get u
wucken psychic arses back out into the cosmos where u all came from. As dots of
Light originally. As I recall. However, because I am of feminine essence, I am
bitch. A supercosmicbitch actually. And I insist, with no other deal possible.
That b4 u all wuck off to play in Etheria proper again. That u clean up this
stinking wucken mess that self consciousness, so called humans have let loose
upon my fair body.
They have cut me, exploded me,
poxed and polluted me in every way possible. Being the Mother, I let them go.
But I can no longer do that and I need your help to reign them into the next
course in evolution. Being cosmic consciousness everywhere upon the ground.”
45 salutes r given and a chant spontaneously starts up.
“Kali Maya! Kali Maya! Kali
Maya!”
Brains’s face is just about
popping. The Sarge is just looking at as all and grinning profusely. Like the
powerball was his. He says nothing because he knows that there is nothing left
to say. About what the wucken goal is. U just can’t get any more explicit than
I am inner-outer Light. It is the only definition in life that will guarantee u
some fun.
I am an inner, I am a body
mind is just a recipe for perpetuating re run disasters. One dies, all die. One
is born, all r born. This is the truth, when Ms Maya pulls her dress. Right up.
And shows u her great big cosmic pussy. Where all of the Light is coming from.
Where u came from too. Where u r going back to right now too. Having fun 41?
Yes u r.
Brains’s Last Letter To Mumsy
Holodeck
3
Mothership 5
The Universe
My Dearest Mumsy,
Well it’s all happening Mumsy!
Here at cosmic boot camp. Tomorrow we graduate and start the real game, at
long, long last. There will be a big parade and we will get to say goodbye to
everyone and then we will be on our own. Well, once we step thru the
transporter ring that is. They showed us one the other day. They r dirty great
big silvery circles. About 10 metres high they r when they stand them up on
their edges.
They’ve got a bubble skin type
membrane in them and if u walk thru it it’s game on. I cannot tell u how
excited about that I am. Mumsy, it’s like every second of every life that I
have ever lived was for this coming moment. When I can step thru that cosmic
ring tomorrow that will give me a shot at the Matrix. If I play my cards right.
I must say though that I am
confident of success and that I have been fortified fully by the training
course here. U know that I was so removed from life b4. Now though I am in the
wucken thick of it and absolutely transcendentally lovin’ it. People here don’t
give a shit that I look, walk and talk like a shizoid puppet. Or that a
teaspoon of my attached brain has more numbers and symbols in it than all of
there’s put together.
They have accepted me as one
of their own, a comrade player of the real game. They just don’t put me down at
all. They r always building me up, and I do the same to them. 23, as I’ve said
b4, has been absolutely fantastic. Always looking after my dickhead repetitions
without highlighting them.
41 has also been a close ally
and we have sunk a few coldies down the clubhouse, let me tell u. A real funny
thing happened not long after I last wrote to u Mumsy. Regarding 23 and 41. It
happened at assembly one morning. Ha! Ha! Ha! They morphed, the first of us to
do it. It just happened spontaneously as they were standing stiff and erect. 41
grew a set of pretty good tits really. Not as good as yours though Mumsy. No
one’s could be as good as yours. Well, maybe except for Kali Maya’s, that is.
Anyway, 41 grew tits and
inherited a vagina where his cock used to be. Meanwhile, 23 lost her tits and
her twat and grew a rather big dick. So some of the Saturnian hospital
orderlies told us later on. With great big smiles, I might add. Talk about
awesome shape shifting shit Mumsy. It was an education just watching it.
Well the 23 and the 41 just started screaming. They went plumb loco.
23 was yelling her head off that she didn’t want to have a big dick and
that she wanted her lovely soft tits back. 41 was yelling at the universe to
get rid of the heavy, wobbling tits and re grow the stand up to piss out of
penis. The Sarge was yelling at them both to calm down and was trying to
explain to them what was going down. But they were too freaked out to listen.
Eventually they both collapsed
in shock and had a mutual cardiac arrest. 23 had cracked a massive horn and 41
had had a spot or 2 of blood. Run down the inner thigh. He thought that it was
piss at first, though when he looked, he knew that it wucken wasn’t. That’s
what finally dropped him. 23 kind of fell over with the extra horn weight, but
poor old 41 just crumpled. Like an old building that’s being imploded and
demolished with explosive charges. God it was wucking funny! We all laughed our
brains out.
The Sarge went to work on them
and then started screaming like a lunatic across the yard for the medics. Well
the medics came a running at speeds unknown to man. They brought some tough
astral stretchers and a secondhand flying saucer. That had been converted into
a space ambulance. One of the medics was that big Roger from Uranus that I’ve
written about b4 Mumsy. For a critter from Uranus, Roger’s quite a sweet guy
really.
I’ve heard Mumsy that Uranus is really a shit of a place, because of
all of the noxious gases up there. Roger is really nice though. He’s not
abruptly Klingonish at all. U’d really like him Mumsy. He’s definitely your
type. Tall, dark, handsome and over the top mystical. He loves a laugh, does
old Roj.
He had a funny episode that he
told me about as well. Apparently, the other morning he rode his very loud bike up the steep hill behind the
Commandant’s office. He’s got a Harley. It matches his long beard. He wanted to
chop some wood and so took the axe from the chopping block. To sharpen it on
the cosmic grinder in the tool shed. Well he was heading towards the shed when
he noticed this incredible Light beaming out of the cracks in the wooden planks
of the tool shed’s wall.
He sensed that the Commandant,
the Sarge and Kali Maya had snuck into the shed to have a pow wow. Away from
sensitive ears and cosmic bugging devices, no doubt. And probably to have a few
nips of the hard stuff as well. Well big Roj reckons that the toolshed door
opened 6 inches and that their combined Light momentarily blinded him. They
were having a real session in there, apparently. Well whilst that big Roger
from Uranus was leaning backwards and screening his eyes a combined voice spoke
unto him. From out of the Light. And do u know what it said Mumsy? Ha! Ha! Ha!
It said.
Wuck off Roger!!! Get u wucken
arse off this wucken hill! U’s will give us a way. Now get back on u bike and
wucken wuck off!
Ha! Ha! Ha! Mumsy. How’s that
for a sermon on the mount?!
U don’t have to chop wood and carry water after enlightenment. That’s
all bullshit! More word lies. U can stay right away from the big psychic hill
and the old mind toolshed that is the ego, if u want. Just go, I am Light.
That’s what they were really saying to that big Roger from Uranus. Ha! Ha! Ha!
Talk about a round about way of telling somebody something.
The gang of 3 r a riot and
they love to keep a secret. Even from Cheryl. Oh! That’s the new sky boss
Mumsy. They got rid of that boring old Adolph wucker that I told u about last
time. Just as well too because it’s been absolutely wicked here since they did.
I have never had so much fun in all of my life. Nor have I ever felt so
close to the Earth and the sky at the same time. I am gunna give it a shake
Mumsy! I am gunna give the wucken Matrix a shake if it’s the last thing that I
ever do. Kali Maya has got me going. Every time that I see one of her billion
year old arms, I just get speechless.
The way that she waves them
about wave like drives me and the rest of the crew absolutely wild. Sometimes I
see your face in her face Mumsy, and so I am headed out on the road to cosmic
consciouness for u too. I shall never forget the pain that u endured to bring
me into this horrible wucking world. First dad almost split u in 2, then u
nearly did it to uself. To get wee packaged me in. Just as well the doc was
there to put a few stitches into u big fanny, after the event had passed. Ay
Mumsy?! Good on the ol’ doc, ay?! He made sure that u next root was a half
decent one.
So I shall never cease
desciribing to u the joys of finding my own way out of the 3rd
dimension. Alias, the Planet of Pain. There is nothing like truthful discovery
to start thawing out a frozen or shocked soul. It took me a long while to get
going, but by Christ I am going now. All of the way too. When u wake up and
find out that u’s consciousness point is everywhere and that now is always,
that’s absolutely awesome. Isn’t it old girl?! Just to find out that u have the
equipment installed in u to be able to play as the lot, is frankly, a most
welcome surprise. It’s a crying shame that more so called humans don’t find it
out.
My dearest Mumsy. It is a far,
far better thing that I will do tomorrow than I have ever, ever done b4. The
hopes of the so called humans ride with all of us who will soon be playing the
real game. There is one thing only to do with a murderously moronic
civilisation, and that’s to get rid of it. Forever. These very little, tiny
creatures have had 1000s of years to sort their killing aggressions out. It’s
obvious though that they r not going to make it and wucked if we will allow
them to hold us back any more.
Neither Kali Maya, the
Commandant, Cheryl, the Sarge nor we real players can holographically sustain
or tolerate them anymore. They’ve just got too much word shit inbetween their
ears. They r wucked. They can’t see it because they will not let go of the
bullshit belief that matter is real. The stupid currents. To say that some of
them r as thick as bricks, would be to be grossly unfair to the brick.
Compared to the murderers, devils r angels with wings.
They just can’t twig that
matter is very, very, very slowed down spirit. Compressed into a hologram. If
they will not play the real game for their spirits, then they will simply have
to wucken go to another hologram. Make no mistake Mumsy, we r at war with self
consciousness, ego ignorance. That kills and kills our bodies in endless
succession. We r gunna kick their low down, dirty rotten arses too! If we have
to mutate the entire hologram to ensure victory, then so be it.
If we have to dissolve every state and every false religion, then so
wucken be it.
Because they just go on
talking about God! But they do not know what the wuck they r talking about.
They talk for mortal power and to feed their turdy egos. The sky God that they
go on about lives only in their imaginations.
If we have to create another hologram somewhere else for those made of
Light, black hearted ignorants to play mortal war in, then we will. We don’t
need bombs, bullets and coercion violence to beat them. Our hearts and minds
will destroy them without us having to lift a wucking finger. Once we have the
maths and the rest to do it. We’ll ship them all out.
The Light company has a ship
that could take them all in one load. It could cart all of those ignorant,
refusing to wake up turkeys out, no trouble at all. U’ll see Mumsy. We’ve been
let into the big cosmic plan and as wucking crazy as it all sounds. It will
happen. I can see the gardens and the transcendental mystics playing in them in
my visions already. U can’t stop Eve olution Mumsy. Anymore than u can stop
history disappearing into the wretched past. Where it wucking belongs.
A grand dame like uself would no doubt have to agree with that. The
patriarchy and the matriarchy r both dead as far as we r concerned. We work for
the Light company now and our boss is called the spirit Light.
If u want to know a little
secret Mumsy. I always had an inkling that u had cosmic consciousness and that
u organised this camp for me. Thanks Mumsy! A great big smacker on u cheeks. U
r absolutely the best! U certainly knew what I needed and when. This camp has
saved m’ life and all of that depression and despair that used to get to me is
just a dream long gone now. I am excited Mumsy! Like I have never ever been
excited b4. I exist and nothing can destroy, hurt or kill me. I am alive! I am
made of transcendental Light. An entire spiritual hierarchy of celstial
mafnificence is backing me and the others up. In our quest to Matrix bust.
I am Mumsy. Inner-outer Light. Just like u.
We’ve got nothing against
souls of course, being projections of them ourselves. Body mind machines who
just want to kill all of the time though. Who see killing as a solution to the
problem of too much human pain, whilst they pocket more profit money. And
pretend to be worthy bigshots. R just not our cup of front brained tea. They r
too ignorantly based and they run on lower brain, reptillian aggression. Their
sky God is wrathful. It’s in the book. He wipes the board without remorse.
They do their best to follow suit.
They con and cull, con and
cull, non stop. They worship superficial iconic crap and idiotic word nonsense.
Because it justifies their insane killing. In a hologram where there would be
plenty for all, if it was shared amiably. In a very hypothetical, greedless
society. That worshiped the spirit of the real game first and low done matter
second. And left the imagined sky Gods completely out of it. This would be.
Instead, we have the bullying,
conning, grabbing, fighting, greedy nastiness and killing that characterises
the current so called human. Religo-economic, political global market. U know
that I stopped voting for politicians years and years ago. Now I know why I
have not the slightest bit of faith in them anymore. It’s because I know now
for certain that they know absolutely nothing, even if they don’t. What can the
mind really say Mumsy but I do not wucking know, because nothing wucking lasts?
Everything good or bad just fades away. The constant is missing.
The Light in life is so buried
by abstract language convention and human ego nastiness that very few ever see
it. Till they r dead that is. Everyone seems to think that it is status quo
that u should go to ground and be tortured to death by a wayward mind tool.
Either u own or others. When there is not one politician or dentist left on
Kali Maya’s surface, then we shall all be in heaven. Truly then shall E equal
MC squared. Truly then will the Earth be populated by gardeners and
transcendental mystics.
The so called humans will all be long dead. Killed by Eve olution.
Delivered thru the pores of Kali Maya. And the cosmic greats who play here.
Uself included Mumsy.
The other day they showed us
the full array of weapons that we will have at our disposal. They introduced us
to a retired donkey mind. We all chatted for ages with the old bugger. We only
get to take our C 45’s and our rifle thru the transporter ring though. The rest
of the gear, including the SLM, the big bazooka that I told u about, we pick up
later on.
When we go thru the ring, our
first mission is to make our way to the donkey mind stables. Where we r to
select one to be our partner in the game. This will be tricky Mumsy! Because
the right sort of donkey mind will be crucial to our chances of success. I am
going to take my time Mumsy. If necessary, I’ll do some donkey whispering. I
just don’t want one that is a sturdy and strong plodder of the terrestrial
ground. I need one that is also not afraid to fly around the cosmos. With me on
its back. Having a 69iner with the universe.
Well Mumsy, I guess that this
is it. I don’t know where I am going and I don’t know that I’ll ever be coming
back in this same body. But I know that I’ll be back somehow. After I’ve blown
the absolute shit out of the word Matrix that governs mortal Earth. So I’ll pop
in for a cup of tea if u r still down there. If not, we may have already caught
up in the 4th dimension.
Or maybe the 5th. Whatever, look after uself and see u soon
old girl.
Grow a golden orchid for me
and tell Jeeves that he may as well pack up my train set. Likewise, u may as
well flog my Porsche’s off Mumsy. And sell off all of my stock. I don’t think
that I’ll be needing any of that useless wucking shit again. Get another gold
hot house built on the south lawn with the money and grow some more beauties to
put around dad’s grave. Do be careful with the mineral water too Mumsy. I’d
hate to see u end up like the Sarge. All habits r mean, ay?!
Remember, a couple of tots a
day. That’s all that u need old girl. Goodbye my dearest Mumsy. See u when
heaven comes to Earth.
Your loving son
always
Brains
( Alias. Number 9. Number 9. Number 9. Etc.)
Graduation Day and Game on
It is an absolutely
magnificent day. The sky has never looked so blue, the amiable puffs of cloud
in it have never looked so wucking alive. And cuddly shaped. If ever u were
having a panoramic dream, this would have to be it. 100,000 cosmic troopers r
lined up in their platoons awaiting the appearance of the beloved Kali Maya.
Peace symbol flags r flying around and flapping everywhere amidst a virtual sea
of rainbow coloured heads.
The Commandant is already up
on the huge stage and has just delivered a rousing little speech. Regarding
what it takes to extract nuclear dumb, violent, ignorant, killing and raping
shit from out of a hologram. And wuck it off to more appropriate candlelit, bow
and arrow holographic pastures. Where it still doesn’t wucking belong.
Basically he just told everyone again. Use the I am as purifier, witness the
mind as a KSS tool and meditate. To quieten it the mind, right down.
Your platoon is just in front
of the stage and u and u mates will be the first to go. By the end of the day
though, 100,000 players will have passed thru the rings. U’s looks across with
transcendental love and fond admiration at Brains, 23, 41, 3, 4 and 5. They’ve
been great to u and u’ve been great to them. That’s why u r all front rowers.
Nobody got emotionally over
involved or ego hypnotised by sorrowful, poor me, I can’t live without u stuff.
But everybody absolutely delighted everyone else. With their earnest desire to
play the real game. U r super confident that u and they r gunna shit this
Matrix killing game in. Because u all know God to be a holographic programme
called FUN. The fear sky God died a lonely death for u when u came to understand
how it is. That u inside is really u outside, and u outside is really u inside.
The bugger evaporated.
That the thinking goes on
outside of the body and not in the brain, u comprehend. Aside from that, u know
that u r inner-outer Light and that u r unkillable. No wonder then that there
is confidence a plenty about the place. Even if all of the work of Matrix
busting will be yours alone. A solo effort that brings u all back together
again. With u real Self. And therefore everyone and everything else. In the
consciousness creation. So u alone R, but u r never, ever alone. Because the
spirit in u stretches right across a cosmos where u have wucken friends and
transcendental lovers galore.
The Sarge is out the front
beaming with satisfaction. Kali Maya hovers onto the stage. Instantly all crowd
noise stops. There is a dead still silence that replaces it that even a
politician would not dare to interfere with. A dentist would run away screaming
with shit dribbling down their legs. They would suicide.
“I did a deal with the sky!,” says Kali Maya. Sounding like a
poetess who speaks a crystaline language.
“They said that they’d give me
45 of u’s to shake the 3rd dimensional shit out of the so called
called humans! But I am a greedy supercosmic bitch. So I’ll have the whole
wucken lot of u’s!!!! Do u hear me players?! U 100,000 have my divine
invitation to go off now and score u’s selves a Matrix. Then come back to Earth
and score a 3rd dimension for me! What a game ay?!!!!”
A huge, thundering roar goes
up. Everyone salutes the stage as they stiffen at attention. U included. U r in
an epic and u r the epic. Wuck it’s great. U mission. To love every word that
u’ve got to death. With u’s cosmic guns.
“Heil Kali Maya! Heil Kali
Maya! Heil Kali Maya!,” u thunder along with the mass of others. As u all
continue to madly and mercilessly salute in the direction of the cosmic stage.
Where the girl that u’ve been dreaming that u r living on top of for some time
now, is still standing. With all of her arms waving around in their usual
hypnotic fashion.
They may have found Marilyn in
the nude. When u find Kali Maya though u can bet u bottom draw dollar that
she’ll be dressed to kill. U self consciousness state. In order to conquer hate
and banish it to the realm of pure illusion, where it comes from. U need HER!
And u’s needs her Now! And u’s has got Her now! So all of u problems r
incidentals and side effects of the real game. They r not worth the paper or
the mindscreen that they r printed on. U r made of Light.
End of the wucking story. The beginning too.
U work for the Light company. U get paid in much higher, much more
accelerated and intense cosmic games. Where u exist as very subtle, very happy
stuff. That’s all that u know now.
The individual loves the mass
reinforcement of belonging to a group. The individual thrives on that because
it destroys aloneness and separation. U r quite ok these days. The 3D
love-hate, ego storm has passed, well and truly. U r at the peace station in u
head and u’s heart is super strong. And beating along with and in time with
that great heart, the universe. Your universe.
Which is but a cell of the omniverse.
“U all know how u wucken got
here!,” she shrieks. Does that multi armed lady up upon the stage.
“U mum opened her legs twice
for u’s, Me too! Thrice! U’s had the normal, third dimensional childhood. All
sorts of nonsensical crap got shoved into u attached minds. Words about family
allegiances, country loving and patriotic sky God worshiping stuff; locked u
into the I am a separated body mind stew.
Well it’s not said that there’s anything wrong with that! People live
and fight and die for what they love and believe in. Good on them! If they
didn’t die my Earth would be nothing but a garbage tip of early aged senility.
But enough of that old boring, dying third dimensional stuff.
How would u earnest wuckers
like to make my 5th dimensional country, the omniverse, your wucken
country?! Ayyyy!!!! How would u like to get patriotic about the wucking
cosmos?! That collection of universes that u r about to inherit. And call it
HOME! Your sky land! U’s sky dirt! Every planet and every creature on every
planet being as precious as life itself to u. Because it is all u Self. Every
little cosmic point of it.
How would u like to never have
to worship an invented sky God type, who can never truthfully reflect every
dimension in every universe? Because u r as Real as the Light! Not a complete
artificial product of a fear based imagination. In an attached, juvenile,
deadly dangerous, killing 3D mind game. Wuck that!
When u can just worship u Real
Self, and take the shortcut. Will u be into this players! Will u’s be Slayers
for me and come back and help me to clean up the wucken poxed Earth?!”
“Affirmative Ms Maya!!!!,” u
thunder spontaneously, along with 999,999 other throats.
“We’d wucking transcendentally
love to help u’s out Darlin’!”
“Well then!,” roars Kali Maya
back at u’s.
“Let the cosmic games begin!
And when u do return, do pop in for a chat and to register uself as supercosmic
material. And have a tot or 2 of the hard stuff to celebrate with me, whilst u
r filling in the forms. Be rest assured. I will only be too pleased to see u
and u will be most welcome. As one of my very own should be.”
Another thunderous roar echoes
from the north to the south, and the east to the west too. The excitement in u
is red roar, but u have it under control. Even with everything that is going on
u r still I am ing it from one foot sideways and one foot up. U r still just
watching as though u r already the lot and have in effect, never not been the
lot.
“Number 9!,” says the
Commandant as a transporter ring is hoisted into the air behind him.
“Step forward and select u
song! Prepare for transportation!”
U’s looks down the line and
sees Brains grinning like a gorilla who has just had a bonk. He takes a little
skip and moves off. His arms r still going up and down like the Gods of Olympus
r still pulling his strings.
There r words of good luck and bon voyage coming at him from all
directions. Up on stage he goes over to that big Roger from Uranus, who is DJ
for the day.
He’s in a booth with gear and
astral speakers everywhere. It’s his job to play every player’s requested song
for when they step thru the transporter ring. U’s watch as Brains whispers into
Roger’s ear, then has words with the Master. Freddy that is. Then he talks some
with Kali Maya, who charges him up with a heap of transcendental love. She kind
of splashes him with it.
Finally, Brains moves to the
ring and turns to the crowd one last time. As he salutes the heart, the music
starts up. It’s real, real loud; and real good too. The sound is coming from
mountainous piles of speakers that r positioned all over the huge square. Big
Roger is to be seen swinging his hips and shaking his head on the big video
screen opposite the stage.
He’s a wucken character! Is
that big Roj from Uranus. He’s got astral headphones on and he’s really
grooving as he plays with his collection of stored songs.
Within seconds, 100,000 plus
right feet r doing some significant foot tapping on the ground. The stage too.
The Commandant and Kali Maya start dancing. It’s unreal.
“When I die and they lay me to
rest!,” finally comes out of the speakers.
“Going to go to the place
that’s the best,
When they lay me down to
die,
Going up to the spirit in
the sky!!!!!…..”
The joint is absolutely
thumping. Ben Hur Brains turns and gives one last salute to everybody. He’s
riding the chariot. Then he takes one small step for man, but a hell of a
monumentally wucking big step for so called humans. As he goes, the roar is
absolutely deafening. U watch without envy, knowing that where Brains just went
to, u will soon be going.
“41!,” roars the Master.
“Select u song! Prepare to be
transported!”
41 goes thru the same process
as Brains just did and vanishes to the sounds of Strauss’s Blue Danube. He
stirred the crowd up with a big brown eye b4 he left. Kali Maya pretended to
reprimand him for dropping his dacks like that. In the true reality though, she
absolutely loved it. The old girl, she’s got nothin’ against brown eyes. She
understands perfectly that they r quite necessary sometimes. After all, every
feral’s got one.
“Zero!!!!,” the Master calls
out.
U’s flinch and swallow hard. U
r on, because your number is up.
“Select u song. Prepare to be
transported!”
“Zerohhhh! Zerohhhh!
Zerohhhhh!,” chant the 100,00 as u stride up to the stage. It is gloriously
deafening. Full of smiles, u’s goes up and whispers u song into Roger’s ear. U
gives the Commandant a hug and thanks him for all that he has done for u and
the crew. U’s turns and blows a kiss to the Sarge. He blows one back to u.
Then u go over to Kali Maya.
She strokes u everywhere and tidies everything that u got on up. God! U really
feels like u cosmic Mum is sending u off on a big trip. She looks u straight in
the eyes and u have never seen more beauty, nor felt more beautifully in love
in u entire life.
“I’ll have u back Zero, if u
please,” she whispers just above u golden ear ring. U smile and lean in towards
one of her cosmic lobes.
“I’ll be back m’Lady!,” u
tells her.
“There’s no way that I am
going to miss u big cosmic consciousness party. Don’t u wucken worry about
that!”
She smiles and gives u a tremendous splash of her transcendental love.
It knocks u’s for a 6. U’s heart almost explodes.
Then u’s heads for the
transporter ring. U salute the 100,00 by placing an opened hand gently across u
heart. They roar their guts out at u and salute u back. The same way. With
inner vision. Not the false, outer one.
“Zerohhhh! Zerohhhh!
Zerohhhhh! Kill the wucken alphabetic Matrix!,” they all go. Pumping their good
vibrations at u’s. Wuck! If only it had been like that from ages 3 to 7 on
Earth. It would have been the glorious 5th dimension. Instead of the
wucking horrible third.
U’s turn. It’s ashes to ashes,
and dust to dust time. U’s don’t know whether there’s shit comin’ out of u’s
arse. Or Light bombs exploding from u’s heart, thru the head. All that u’s know
is that u have to take this next step.
It’s all wucken happening! Just like the Victorian nose is always
saying. At the MCG.
“Mama mia! Here I go again!…,”
blurts out of 100,000 plus speakers.
Then u cross that threshold. That u will never, ever regret crossing.
GAME
WUCKEN ON ZERO
New Zealand it looks like. Or
it could be Austria, southern Australia, the USA or any number of Earth
replicated places. U take a step, not for a second forgetting that truly r u in
a hologram. Wherever u r, the scenery is absolutely spectacular. A lush green,
rolling, wooded and mountainous landscape surrounds u. There is a tiny bit of
snow on the mountain’s peaks. There is also a trail just ahead and a sign at
the beginning of it. Natural deduction and the instinct inherent in u third eye
move u towards it. 3 minutes later u r standing directly underneath it. It
says.
WARNING
NO WUCKING POLITICIANS OR DENTISTS ALLOWED!
U HAVE BEEN WARNED
POLITICIANS AND DENTISTS WILL BE ASTRAL SHOT ON SIGHT
AUTHORISED PLAYERS ONLY R TO PROCEED TO DONKEY STABLES
NO SHOOTING YET!
U HAVE BEEN WARNED PLAYER
Go with the heart. The rest is
a fart.
BY ORDER
GAMEGODDESS
BETH
GAMEMASTER TED
U’s takes note of the no
shooting yet warning. Not that u could do that much damage with only one golden
bullet. Like 41, u’s have a set of pearls and u’s fondle them some. As u trusty
unloaded cosmic rifle leans against u pretty, sometimes hairy, sometimes not
leg. U r not in the leg or any other part of the body. U r one foot sideways and
one foot up. U r doing nothing. The body is morphing.
Sometimes it’s female,
sometimes it isn’t. U don’t care and u want nothing. Not even to live. It
doesn’t really matter what happens now because u r already the Light. It’s just
a game that u r playing, that’s all. The shoe is on the other foot though now.
It is a nice looking, excellently souled, soft and comfortable shoe. It is not
a dark coloured, steel capped boot. That attacks the inner and the outer like a
heavy word handed, critical pendulum.
As u move off up the trail, u
have cognition that it is the universe that is really doing the work. In u
mind’s eye u see the body that u r attached to being pushed along by the
elastically alive, mystically vibrant totality that surrounds it.
The sensation that u r moving
the body with unconscious orders from the brain is one of the cleverest
illusions that u know. The textbook Guru made u wise to it and the textbook
Guru is in your heart always. U r One with u Guru and his many mates. He
started u off on the trail to absolute peace of mind and abundant
transcendental love, going both ways and all ways. For wucking ever and ever
and ever.
U can’t help smiling about
that as the body strides up a gentle incline. It was a nice surprise
considering that u lived most of u life as if u were already dead and buried.
Or wished that u were. God wuck me! U’s whispers to u Kid Soul. If only mortal
kids didn’t get pressured into playing with the I am unworthy word shit.
U’s must have done something right somewhere along the line though. The
I am therapy and the I am Light line was just so juicily truthful and
addictive, that u just couldn’t resist it. And look what it got u!
It got u a shot at the best wucking Matrix busting game in the
universe. Because cosmic consciousness cannot be beaten. Why? Because there is
not one drop of good versus evil in it. It’s just Light and It is just bliss.
IT RULES!!!!! That’s all.
No negative can even go there,
let alone survive there. It will not tolerate any form of holographic duality.
It offers the mirrored sustenance for dualistic reflections to occur, on an
infinity of planets or planes. Yet it does not deal in reflections. It’s
vibrations r far to the nth too subtle. Nor can It be said to even be aware of
the reflections.
As sunlight is not aware what lays underneath a boulder, when the
boulder is a mind lost in its imagined illusions.
The Real then only comes into
the picture when u get the transcendental bug so far up u arse, that It is all
that u can think about. U live for it. Multitudes of beings on the Earth at the
moment r finding themselves in exactly that spot. Because the so called outer
cannot deliver and never will deliver, they have turned in. To seek a path to
cosmic consciousness, and fulfil their real destinies.
It is absolutely beautiful stuff, witnessing so many do a reprogramming
job on the great negative. By going I am Light, I am inner-outer, outer-inner.
Just like the great prophets did. When they started themselves off on the road
to cosmic consciousness.
The Great Positive looms up b4
them seekers. A Saint and a Madonna, all in one. So u’s is itch busting to
start shooting, it’s true Zero. Because what is already going on is just too
wucken much. There’s this bliss running thru u as if u cannot lose the quest to
find out who u r and who u represent as spiritual sentience. U have been taught
that the ultimate success is just in u, naturally.
Comprehend u dreaming
ignorance and It will be staring u in the face. All that u need do is to create
and maintain those conditions which will bring it out. Like any virus, cosmic
consciousness is cultivated. In cultures. U have come here to grow the right
culture. By the killing off of all mind generated words and a language which
explains absolutely nothing. For u thirsty for discovery and formerly
unsatisfied soul. U r happy playing this game though. It feels right. Like u r
on a winner, getting rid of the perceived this and that’s. That automatically
attach to u venerable I am.
The past is gone now. The good
times and the bad. They r just memories of an attached mind that have been
slotted into the Kid Soul’s impression banks. Running thru the 1000’s of
holographic plays that u as a KSS projection have done, r many characters,
playing many different roles. U KSS has access to them all. U’ve done ‘em all
just about, and u’ve had relationships with them all.
With all of those who cover
the family, friend, lover and enemy terrain. Throw the stranger in there too.
Mixed with experiences they all r. Of povery and wealth, love and pain, beauty
and horror.
Re run and re run and re run
to perfect what it is that u r after. To blow up the Matrix, and wuck around
with the Void again. By watching it all instead of thinking that u r in it and
that it is real, u’s have sussed it out. U’ve clicked with the cosmic mechanism
that evokes so called solid pictures. It is called a mind. The mind is like a
car. U need it to drive somewhere where u can get out and walk under u own
power, the rest of the way. To the goal. To that ultimate and eternal cosmic
picnic spot.
Because the car can’t take u
there. There just r just no roads up that absolute incline. U’ll need u own
steam when u reach there. What happens to the mind? Do u’garage it or put it
out to pasture or what?! It should be interesting Zero, to discover what
happens. The mind is the Great Worker. Your mighty helper. U’d like to see the
wucker get its just desserts. Instead of war after war after war.
So all of this is going thru u
and u r watching it with full awareness of its tremendous importance in the
game that u r undertaking. U know that the selection of the right donkey is
going to be crucial to u chances of getting some shots off at the word Matrix.
As the body moves along the sky above is a stunningly beautiful blue. The birds
r out in force. Some little red bellied ones r flying close to u and chirping
with song. Pretty cute little wuckers they r too. Holy shit can they put out
some noise.
In the not too distant
foreground r the not too high, though high enough, mountains. U ponder wonder
about their significance. Could one of them be the first big hill that u must
get up? All in all u r having a wonderful day in a wonderful world. U never
felt better in u entire wucken life. U r inner-outer, transcendental Light to
the core. To u, all pictures r in essence, one big picture.
It’s there in that big picture
where u’ll find the by far largest slice of uself. Bliss laughing and having an
absolutely wonderful existence. Way outside of matter, energy, space, time and
dimension. All of what appears, appears to be on the outside, yet u r aware
that it is in the true reality. U cosmic inside. That’s why u super respect it
so. Don’t hurt, don’t cheat, avoid stupid trouble at all costs. Run like wuck from
violence, if u have too. When u stop to stand u ground against the real enemy,
and their items. Make dead sure that u r killing the right things. When, as
dualistic change dictates, u go on the offensive.
In a way, u r like a super
effective, chemical agent in the physical brain body. Sent out to kill all of
the ignorant, being bad rotten bugs that r not beneficial to the entire
organism. U have come to kill the words which have generated false ideas and
concepts about u true self. The total cosmic body, u Self. U r going to destroy
that abstract, schizo, super stressed out, pissed off self-Self image which has
held u back for so long.
U will replace it with a blissful Self-self IMAGE. That will cancel out
every other image that u have ever dreamt up and played with. Yours Zero is to
ride the River of Light. Straight up the guts into the Shoreless Ocean of
Light. U were never born and u will never ever die. Body mind consructions
always fade away, u never do. U r kid soul spirit.
Existence for u is eternal and
infinite. U r fearlessness itself, in this attitude. Absolute wucking
fearlessnesss! U can kill any word thing anytime, if u want. U Kid Soul Spirit
wants to surf the River of Light and make out with the Shoreless Ocean of Light
again. U know that nothing can stop that now. U have thrown the ego towel in
and surrended all desire to the higher goal. Of lobbing some little Spirit
Light bombs down Word Volcano Mountain's fat throat.
U won’t get paid for it but u don’t want money. U want u mighty spirit
back again, so u can go and play with Kali Maya some more.
So that u can gently help her
crack a 3rd dimensional scone or 2. That’s all. Then, when the great
She’s well and satisfied with the number of 3rd dimensional scones
that have been cracked. So that a lovely big egg of cosmic consciousness, is
gently cooking in the Earth pan. Then u can wuck off! And go and wuck around
again with the crew who hang out, way UP THERE. Beyond the dimensions and
beyond the Void. Again. Remember!!!! Because that is where u were really
reared, in one of those great soul nurseries.
It’s a wucking good plan Zero!!!!! For it resonates oh so sweetly, with
the sweetness of good old ethereal justice. Does it not? To live in the Light
again. That’s real ambition.
As usual, u KSS has the
perfect grip on it. U might think that u’ve had the reins. Once or twice. That
though is just the illusion that the words gave u. Wuck! That’s more than
obvious by now. The I am therapy turned it all around for u, in a very nice
way. It sets its own sweet pace, I am Light does. All that u gotta do is to do
what u spirit wants, and kill the rest.
There is an effortless spiritual momentum there, and u's just slots
uself neatly into it. Many r doing nothing else these days. Who gives a wuck about
controlling the uncontrollable! Is a pretty common attitude.
Every time u remind uself that
u r made of transcendental Light, the slot widens. Like every single thing that
comes out of that Light, u r a MOST WORTHY receiver. This u drill uself with,
24/7. It takes a bit to do the old holographic helter skelter slide, from u
grace spot. Way beyond the sky. U wucken done it though. The flesh tells u
that, just about non stop.
The mind never shuts up about
it. If it hasn’t got something that it is dreaming that it wants, it will
invent it. Bang! U’ve got a world. But do u need it?! More to the point, does
it wucken need u? Or, does it need ego u? When there is not one drop of this
imagined Satan bloke in u. Nor any of those other silly critters. Only fools
take the Light on. From a dream existence, where nothing really is. Where
everything appears and disappears and changes, non stop. Because there r only
silly words, there IS nothing else. Not if u look from the 5th
dimension, thru u 3D eyes.
There u will spot a shitball
of a hologram that is transmutating into a Light ball. U r in the middle of it
all Zero! U sure know how to party. Pretty shortly, those wucken letters,
words, their ideas, beliefs and concepts, will have to stand b4 their maker. In
a pitiful attempt to give rational account and square off.
Their babblings will go in one of u ears and out of the other wucken
one Zero. B4 u gun them down. U will be just following u kid soul spirit’s
orders Zero. No cosmic court will ever convict u of being inhumane. On the
contrary, it will be the opposite. They will applaud u actions inside. Most
heartily.
Some thoughts run across the
mindscreen in relation to what most of the so called humans r still doing. U’s
shakes u head a bit. U know that they’ll all be back there in that crazy other
hologram. Fighting, loving and dying and doing the same old re run, 3rd
dimensional shit.
Trying to stay right away from pain, whilst vacuuming the little
pleasures out of their lives. Struggling like wuck to just survive. For some
God unknown reason. Going up and down like yo yo’s. In a mental-emotional,
hurly burly sphere. Where up and downess depends first upon genetics and
psychological disposition.
Formed in early childhood,
which sets the attitudinal pattern regarding the inner-outer paradox. In other
words. Am I worthy and good? Or unworthy and bad? If it is out there, do u
worship it? Or do u kill it? Is it alien to u, or is it benevolent?
It further depends upon body health, and what’s happening in the outer
money pocket and socialised war zone. If one does happen to have some money,
can one get out of the door to spend it? Without being brutally killed. If so,
will there be any decent food out there to buy? Because sex may follow, if one
is successful. With a full belly, there may be passion and sex.
U know though that everybody
will eventually break straight down the middle from this and play the real
game. Because the Light company will get them too. One day there’ll be that
letter in their psychic mailbox. The one that tells them to drop everything and
catch the cosmic bus to boot camp. The company has every citizen on its books.
Even the bad guys r there with
last chance monsieur or madame scribbled on top of their disgustingly greedy,
murerously violent files. And u know that when enough of u graduate and team up
that u will return and destroy the third dimension of pain and war. Mass
government by crooked, murderous, con artist gangsters will be no more.
Individual, localised
communities will look after themselves. Whilst they raise their cosmic children
in villages surrounded by massive gardens, incredible 5th
dimensional technologies and lovely, spacious playgrounds. Where a slide can
take a kid all of the way to heaven, or the 4th dimension and
beyond. There will be saucers taking off and landing and won’t the infants get
a blast out of that. Times change Zero!
It used to be steam trains that turned the little ones on. Now it’s
wucking silver or gold discs.
Every individual will be their
own government as they pursue their spirit’s cosmic intentions. There will be
no lions and no lambs, nor sky Gods. Only cosmic consciousness. U r looking
forward to that and u r aware that many other citizens r too. Because a
murderer is a murderer, no matter how expensive the suit that they r
wearing.
No matter how many cameras or jostling journalistic slaves of the mega
rich man’s media circus surround politicians. No matter what dribbleshit words
dribble or pour forth from their plastic coated, ignorant mouths. They act for
themselves and the money and mortal power interests of their own select
group.
The political enemy is not out
there. It is in and it is has 3 names. Ignorance, greed and selfishness. In
other words, they really r so called human beings. They r egos for sure. Right
down to their underpants and extra big knickers. All of their money and all of
their mortal power investments, will not save them. Or their military, so
called religious and business allies. From a five lettered word, called karma.
Their sky God will not be there, when that comes around. There will be no one there to save them,
because in a cosmic game where u exist for Real only as the lot, there is no
one wucken else. Without your I am, nothing is.
There is only u Self. As Zero
awake, it is potently clear to u how incredibly lost in space these people r.
Wuck Zero! And u tried to slot into that so called reality. No wonder that u
couldn’t, when u spirit was biting u bum so hard. And growling at u to leave that
impossible nothingness, dreaming shit
alone.
With their trumpted up words
and entertainment ways, flags and sky Gods, they pretend that they have the
divine answer. They call it progress, which translates in 3rd
dimensional dreaming as more money for them.
It causes chaos all of the way down the social chain. Lucky to get a
hospital bed east or west, these days. And the doctors don’t want to doctor
anymore. Because they r more scared of their insurance premium, than they r of
being sued. They don’t give a wuck up the top though.
They r secure on the hill, though only just these days.
They didn’t get where they got
on handouts. They got gifts, from rich friends. With very dark, vested
interests. Hard to get a grip on that, if u left u mind in kindergarten. And
actually voted for this wucking rubbish. Which has just created so much trauma
and stress in so many people’s lives. These cats r like antibiotics. They kill
the good and the bad. They’ll kill anyone, basically because, that’s what they
do. They kill and celebrate it for wucken 100’s, or even 1000’s of years. The
killing is glorious, as far as they r all concerned.
Funny buggers they r. They
worship dead projections and have not one clue that they r all made of the same
Light. Into which the projections have returned. They blow trumptets of sorrow,
when they should be blowing trumpets of bliss and joy. To go back into the
Light is a lot better than being a human.
It’s natural. Human is artificial.
Very difficult for them to
feel any sense of importance, unless they r a player in the politically
correct, war game. It used to be communist versus capitalist. Now it is just
lunatic versus lunatic. Right up front and in u’s face too. U have just
condemned them to the realm of manifested illusions Zero. Holographic patterns
playing a gross game, with minimal awareness. Of the game’s significant subtle
features.
That sure feels sweetly good.
Let them play their mortal
power, war and sky God games. U r gunna play yours, and take them all out. Because
u realise that the world is u own mind, and nothing else. This is the truth
Zero. What u see is nothing but u Self. U Light is everywhere, in an out of
everything. That’s liberty, freedom and equality at its finest. U can’t deny
it. U can play as the LOT.
Another sign appears and it
tells u that u r getting closer. To the donkey stables. The sign was
unnecessary because u nose was already telling u that there is a significant
amount of animal shit around the place somewhere. Sure enough, u go over a gentle
rise and a rolling green, downsloped carpet is exposed to u. And down in a
little valley not too far away r the stables. Suddenly u hear all of this hee
hawing. U become aware that they have sniffed u’s out. A virtual chorus of
deafening hee haws echoes across the valley. If the monolith from 2001 landed,
u’s wouldn’t be surprised.
It appears that all that u had
to do to get them all excited was to walk over the hill into their nasal and
visual range. U’s didn’t have to say a single word. Fair enough. Something in u
tells u to stop and wait and so u do. The hee hawing escalates into rock
concert volume. U’s crouches and goes thru u selection criteria.
U’s wants one that is good at treading the holographically Earth
simulated ground.
It must have real steady
hooves and be able to negotiate cliff trails. It must be strong and sturdy,
though not overly obstinate. It must be fearless like u r and not afraid of
astral flying. It must have the right volume of intelligence to understand the
nature of the real game. A mind incapable of letting go of all personal
interests will not be your cup of tea.
U want one that u can be rock solid friends with and that will not
try to con u. With words, because it’s really afraid of letting go.
Above all, the donkey that u
select will have to be endowed with a mighty sense of humour. Because u know
that it is going to need it, even though u don’t yet know where the 2 of u will
be going. Already u can sense a mighty bump up in u psychic intuition. The
universe to u is just a little cloud suspended in that Void that is the Real.
But u need a decent donkey to stay right away from the shitty storm clouds.
That have a habit of just coming ego around.
The hee hawing is still going
on and u wonder if the buggers r ever gunna cut it out. By crikey, r they
excited. U can’t blame them. Gee. If u were locked up in a stable in the middle
of nowhere and a player came along who could open the gate, u’d hee haw too. To
get out of there and frolic around playing, u’d bellow u guts out. Like they r
all doing. But u r the Goddess and the Master now. U know that an over
exciteable donkey will get u nowhere.
U need a dormant mature one
who absolutely adores peace and quiet, inside and out. U need one who can
handle it at that level where nothing really is. U’s pulls u cosmic telescope
out and brings it up to u right eye and scans the stables. Looking for tell
tale signs. U go from stable to stable witnessing donkey’s hee hawing their
heads off. Then u spot something mighty interesting at the very end of donkey
stable street.
On the right hand side there
is a non conformist. U press the cosmic focus button and it takes u right in
there with some magnificent magnification. It’s like u r standing there right
at the end of that street.
Looking at that arse. Because
that’s all that u can see. A big donkey’s arse with shit all over it. U move to
the head end which is facing away from the gate. The creature is not vocalising
at all and even from u distance u can sense that it is super pissed off. Like
it doesn’t want to know about anything at all. U’s bring the scope down and
gives u chin a little tickle. So that wucker doesn’t want to play when all of
the others do, u have established. U wonder why.
U decide to set up camp where
u r and make some solid observations. Like the spy who came in from the cold. U
set up u tent and get a campfire going. A cup of chai is in u hands b4 too
long. U sip it and inbetween u scan the stables. The warm sun is on u back and
it’s heavenly to be so footloose and free. All afternoon u’s watch as every
donkey except the non conformist hee haws away. Even when night comes and u
switch u lens around to night vision. The hee hawing does not stop and that
last donkey never turns around.
Occassionally it eats from a
trough and once or twice some runny poo slides out of its arse. But it never
hee haws, not once. By dawn, when finally the noise is gone, u r fairly
convinced that u’ve spotted the donkey for u. Where others see non compliance u
see dammed up energies galore. But it’s gunna take some whispering, that’s for
sure. To bring them to fruition. That goes across u mindscreen like the latest
model fast car goes across the tv.
At 0800 hours, when u leave u
camp and head down the hill towards the stables, u r working to a set plan.
Which involves a little whistling. U intent, to soothe with a little music,
that shitty arsed beast down below. Sound familiar? No doubt.
U
And Stevee, Get It On
They r all hee hawing their
heads off again as u approach. All except Stevee that is. U know that non
conformist donkey’s name because u read the sign on the gate. Thru u scope. U
know all of their names.
“Pick me Zero! Pick me Zero!
Pick me Zero!,” a lot of them r calling out to u.
“Open my gate Zero! I’ll
deliver!,” others cry.
Crikey! It’s like u r rich and
famous or royalty, or some’in’. I am Light is powering thru u though and so u
understand it all. In fact, u know all about how minds worship bodies. Shit! U
came from the Earth, didn’t u? U got into the incredibly sophisticated
entertainment presented by Big Brother. Or did u reject it as superficial,
egotistical crap? It’s getting goshed hard to remember these days. Because as
an impersonal item, u couldn’t really give a wuck about the whole lot of it. U
just play games where u destroy dimensional universes and blow up a Matrix. Or
2. That’s life!
When u go under u spiritual name, of Zero.
“She’ll be coming thru the
mountain when she comes!,” u’s starts singing and whistling. As u gits closer
to the beginning of donkey street. Which kind of looks like an old wild west
town, with no wucken Sherriff’s office in site.
Some of the crew r getting
really excited too. They r hee hawing like crazy and doing donkey wheel stands.
Kicking their back feet up in the air like they’s about to have a real good
time. When a body shows up, some minds will do just about anything to get into
it. Or rather, around it. One way or another.
Dimension here, dimension there. They, the dimensions, r like baked
beans to the Greats who have come b4 u. And picked out the donkey mind which
they rode, as very aware consciousness. Clean out of the cosmos. A most
satisfying ride indeed they had. A ride which u aspire to emulate. And no doubt
will. As far as u r concerned, it’s the beginning and the end of the story. U r
just gunna take out the middle, turn it inside out and join the whole shebang
up. That’s all.
All in all, u suppose that
there would be a 100 odd donkeys in the street. U’s walks up to stable uno
where the fond of copulating Mary is stationed, and u lays it on her. To pass
it around and down that all will be fairly considered, providing there is
quiet. It’s a drag really because u r going to have to pretend that the others
interest u, whilst u make a b line for Stevee. So u start going left and right
down the street like a postie, talking to each donkey in turn.
They do quieten down but still
chat a bit to each other. At an audible, whispering level. U decide
instantaneously that this is allowable. Once or twice u morph and the way that
they address u changes from Master to Goddess. Or vice versa. U ask the kind of
questions that they would expect u to ask.
How many times have u been up the wucken big hill?
Have u ever had a tumble down
the wucking hillside? Show me u’s teeth. Turn around and let me have a gander
up u’s arse. Maybe run a few tests. Is the calcium 10 millimetres thick around
u’s hooves. And so forth. U have many excellent conversations with many
excellent, highly qualified donkeys.
Some of their CV’s r
immaculate conceptions and u do not doubt them in the least. There is one, an
old fellah named Alf, who psychically susses u out. He puts it straight to u
that u r after Stevee. U’s nods and Alf fills u in on Stevee’s history.
Basically u get told that u pick has done it all and feels that rewards for
donkeys r absent in the Real game. This u can understand. U strokes u chin some
more and pumps the oracle for more, more, more. Alf gives willingly and wins a
place in u heart as u second choice.
U’s ends up finally outside
Stevee’s abode. It’s not much to look at really. It’s not that big and there is
only a small tin shed to shelter from any storms in. U’s shudder when u
contemplates what hard rain or hail falling would sound like in that little tin
construction. It would be no doubt, a deafening noise. And with a pile of snow
on top, phoo! It would be wucking freezing.
U can see an old, tatty
blanket hanging on a rack inside. Fleas r having a football match on it. One of
them just took a great mark and hit the ground running. U saw it clearly on u
video screen and u saw the replay too. It hits u that u r in beggar street and
that every donkey here is super hanging out for some groovy, right on and super
cool transcendental love. In other words, they need some spirit. There’s really
not that much stimulating stuff here for them to do. It’s a bit of a whitewash
house that they all live in. They’ve got absolutely no control over their
destinies because their gates r shut.
They haven’t got the gear to
open the wucken things. Conditions r very basic and they r just waiting all
cooped up on muddy ground. For a skilled cosmic player to come along. And pick
them for the Real game. They’ve got self filling grain food and water troughs
and each other to try and communicate with. They’ve got some nice scenery to
look at, but that’s about it. They can look at the white peaks of the
mountains, but they can’t get there. Not without a player.
It’s a current of a situation that they r all in really. Pretty
shocking to the senses, it all is. As any dead end street is. Appalling stuff
really. No room for pity, compassion or a cheque book either. Just wucken
donkeys, either side of the wucking road. Going hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw! 24/7.
Wuck! Do these buggers ever need a McArthur’s Park to play in. They sure go on
like they’ve left their cakes out in the rain.
U though r neither lamenting
for the living or the dead. Like and dislike, positive and negative r all the
same to u. U r just here to pick the right donkey. U’ve left u 3D stupidity
behind u and wised up. Considerably. U grabbed that old emotional baseline vase
that’s been on the mantlepiece since u were body born. U flung it into the
fireplace like a champer’s glass. U’ve got it in u to go way beyond the mind
tool’s emotion. The universe has no doubt about that being on u agenda.
U r the cosmic whistler and so
u’s starts whispering a cosmic tune for u first choice. Don’t Cry For Me
Argentina comes out of u fishole of a holographic gob. A haunting, soul
stretching melody comes up from the bowels of u apparent corporeal existence. U
humm a few bars and sing a line or 2. The victim of the poor me syndrome being
still in its trap. U glide down the side of the stable, gripping the wooden
rails. Still whistling that tune. The eyes of the beast flicker, but there is
no appreciable body movement.
Then u hear a noise and
witness that some more runny poo has just slid out of the beast’s arse end. It
sploots loudly as it hits the ground. That is followed by the loudest, most
rankest fart that u have ever heard or smelt. It’s wucking attrociously
disgusting, but u’s stands u sacred ground. With u nostrils twitching and u
astral guts heeving. Wuck! U feels like a wucking Excorcist.
It runs across u mindscreen
that maybe u’ve wandered into the wrong holographic set. Next thing, as if to
confirm this, ten gallons of piss hits the floor in 7 seconds flat. U legs get
decently splashed. With bits of mud mixed with donkey urine and shit. The head
of the beast turns slowly towards u, in a most non committal fashion. U see
that there is devil fire in those big red eyes.
Divine anger wrapped up in a
bundle, stares u in the face. Raw hatred for oppressively difficult and super
frustrating, re run, meaningless circumstances. Goes thru the legs of the
beast, into Kali Maya’s sacred ground. The lips of the beast move, slowly. Like
it’s chewing mud cud and not sugar.
“Wuck off u wucking cosmic
wucking wanker!,” it drawls.
“Pick some other dickhead or
bitch! I don’t want to wucken play. Now wuck off! And shove u wucking whistling
up u wucken arse! I am not interested.”
Not to be outdone, u execute
plan B. In one swift movement u glide around and unlock the aggressor’s magnetic gate. In less than a second u r
back at u former position.
“Too late motherwucker!,” u
tells the beast.
“You’re it!”
Then u’s turns and strides off
as the electronic gate pings at wide open.
“Don’t cry for me Argentina!,”
u’s sings at the top of u holographic voice. To the now hee hawing again
audience. This is cool because u want them to make a noise now. U want the
noise directed at Stevee. U’s gee them all up with arm motions. They’ve got
nothing to lose now.
“I never left u….all thru my
wild days…..my mad existence…I kept my wucking promise…to my Kid Soul,” u’s
sings joyfully to them.
Then u’s thanks them for their
time and reassures them that the player who will pick them is not too far away.
U give them the numbers and they realize that every donkey camp for miles
around will be stretched to meet the quotas. Which r obviously on the hyper
accelerated bop up. Not like the old days, when they had to wait 500 or even
thousands of years. For a real player to show up. And pick one of them.
Time may not exist outside of
the mind. It’s a real drag though when u r waiting for it to just go away.
Their hee hawing goes up ten fold with the knowledge that their turn at the
real game is coming real soon. As u slips out of camp still bellowing u head
off in that song. U’s has a word with kind Mary to pass it around that u want
them to stir the shit out of Stevee. She is only too happy to oblige.
Because the wucker has a
chance at the Real game. And since u unlocked the unalloyed gate, Stevee hasn’t
moved or uttered another sound. That beast is just standing there and the runny
poo is still pouring forth from its arse. U have never seen an animal that has
the shits to such a degree. What a divine pity, that it doesn’t shit words.
Or rather that it doesn’t shit them from the right end.
The damned up divine energy
there though u sensed fully. It has u rubbing u holographic hands with glee.
Alf told u that Stevee has the century racked up. In fact he’s been up the hill
a 101 times. Or rather, she/he has been up 101 times. The mind being really
genderless. The names taken being as a matter of convenience, depending on the
image being presented. Something that’s in there or out there, to the body. It
really doesn’t matter. Peel the image away and all that u will get is spiritualised
Light masquerading as heavy matter.
U’s goes back to u camp and
puts the billy on. Pretty soon u have another cup of chai in u holographic
hands and u scope is out. U observe no change in the Stevee beast, even though
it sure looks like the others r giving the bugger a hammering. About getting
act one together. Because a chance to play the real game doesn’t come along
every day. Nor every lifetime.
As billions of so called humans will testify to.
If a player picks u out then
that’s an honour. It’s u divine duty to give it a go. And to forget about
emotional baselines and all dualised hatreds. To give it every drop that u’ve
got, for real freedom and for the real cosmic truth. Because one day all will
be revealed. The holographic conditions will get significantly better and
better and better. Forever. U know that’s what they r hammering Stevee with as
u turn the holographic wabbit on u spit. U’ve got a wabbit up top, and a wabbit
down below in the stables. Well, it down below has got big ears anyway. U’s
couldn’t be happier.
The wabbit sure smells good.
U’s licks u holographic chops and once again thanks it spirit for the pleasure.
Of the forthcoming devouring of its matterised Light. Whilst u wait for it to
finish off, u’s bites into a juicy red apple and chomps away, like a hungry
maniac. Chomp! Chomp! Chomp! It sure tastes good Zero. It’s cool and full of
fluid and there’s plenty more of ‘em. In the orchard behind u.
A snake slithers along not too
far away. U’s eyes it off for something else besides a dirty rotten, low down,
wucken double cross. U bank account may have crawled under a duck, to quote
Marlowe. There’s no drop in u enthusiasm for the simple things in life though.
U mind is not a plumber’s handerkerchief. It’s a Kid Soul’s tool. U learnt one
thing real good as a so called human though.
That is, if it’s edible, then
eat it. Eat it, eat it, eat it! Ay?! And cosmic consciousness is very edible.
It’s the Pie that u cooked, and it’s the Pie that u r going to lusciously
devour whilst u play the Real game. U dun it Zero, but u r not guilty of
anything.
The body and mind battle the
impurities that they play with. They get tainted somewhat. The spirit doesn’t
get touched though. The spirited soul remains crystal clear and pure. It is the
Light that never ever changes.
It is in u right now. It is always in u, and off u. Body wise.
U don’t get it properly yet.
Because u live, or lived, in a realm with a word language promoted as reality.
In that language were words like guilty. Sinner. Bad. No good. Not good enough.
Limited. Created. Man. Woman. Depressed. Unworthy. Human. Body. Mind. Small.
Insignificant. Excludable. Matter. Wucked up. And so on and so on, until
doomsday cometh. These all limited the shit out of u. In the end u just told
them all to wuck off. Then u shot them. In cold black type, and right inbetween
the eyes too.
These to u now r false
abstractions. They r completely wrong. On that post mind level where time and
space do not exist, they don’t either. No beliefs nor abstract ideas do. U get
the truth of u eternal formlessness there. U Light body rules. This tells u all
as regards how much water all of those words really hold with u kid soul
spirit. That’s right, not one wucking drop. If u r gunna use the I am concept
vehicle. Just stick Light on the end of it, and kill the wucken rest. U’ll be
so glad that u did. So will the rest of so called humanity.
Earth is not long gone.
That world lives inside of u
real cosmic body. As a heart lives inside the mortal body. U watch the cells in
the heart as they play at pumping blood and divinely inspired deeds out. U see
what the heart really wants. It wants to give all of the transcendental love in
the universe, and it wishes to receive it too. It desires that the spirit
operate at Its optimum potential.
The entire cosmos slaves to induce enlightenment. That is the set up
and the master programme within which all other programmes run. U r
micro-macro, inner-outer Zero. U’s Light as the Lot allows for all
consciousness qames. Though u r never really in them. Because there is nothing
really to ever be in.
U can’t hop into a film or a
dream when they r running. On a cinema or mind screen. It’s impossible. If the
hologram stops running, then it is dead. Not u. No soul has ever done Earth or
anywhere else for real, though squillions do it via projection. The fact that u
can project thru dimensions into a hologram, is only a tiny aspect of u
unbelievable, divine awesomeness. Zero! When it comes to state of the subtle
art, there is no match for u. Nor will there ever be.
U r It.
It’s just u made up cosmic
game then. All of this being alive stuff. Kinda like hide the self, and seek
the Self, ay?! Translated as a mental-emotional apparatus which votes for
either, I am inner, or I am inner-outer. Outer-inner. By now Zero, the entire
wucking universe knows which way u have voted.
The word has got around that
the adventures of u and u gang r gunna be on the cosmic telee. Right now, High
Ups r heading for the cosmic bars. Where they have the Real Sky channel. U have
facilitated that which will ensure those changes which will lead u straight to
u CHANGELESS level. So it’s wucking bewt beyond words, when u’s cotton on that
the I am can have anything that u want on the end of it. Including the best of
them all, nothing.
It’s a waltz in the cosmic
park, for sure. The I am concept Zero. First it thoroughly perplexed u. U used
it 24/7 but u couldn’t get hold of it. Wuck it perplexed and irked u. Where was
it? U were aware that it was changing non stop. But could u get a hold of it?
Wuck no!!! It was I am illusive.
U saw the re runs within the
big re run easy enough. Once that u just started watching it, the old world of
3D form and 3D absolute rubbish thinking; it all wucking dissolved. Like u’d
clicked u fingers and commanded it to melt. Not into the ground, rather back
into the air. It did too. Then u saw electro magnetic fields and wucken colours
every wucking where. Colours like u had never ever seen colour b4. So alive and
pulsating with light they were.
People, cats, dogs, birds,
trees and so much more, all turned into these glorious egg looking things. With
fibres of light streaming from them and doing magnetic patterns. Wuck! It was
wucking mega awesome shit. It was a trillion zillion times better than acid.
U didn’t hate or love anybody
or any thing when u saw it. U just said. I transcendentally accept all of this,
with u gob dropped. U saw how far out the magnetic fibres of light came out of
people, compared with the other animals, vegetation and minerals.
It was evident that the fibres
of people go everywhere. That they enter other fields and play with them. With
time and space being no obstacle. It killed u sense of separation stone wucken
dead, seeing it. And didn’t u wucken enjoy that Zero. Killing that false, I am
all alone concept. Hohh! Jesus. Buddha. And all of those other top cats. Isn’t
that the wucking con of the century, that I am separate fizz.
And then Zero!!! As if all of what had so far hit u was just the horses
wucking doovers. Everything, every name and shape, took upon its own I am, and
started talking to u. Wuck a duck! U felt like that Doolittle current. Or Dr
Who. U discovered that u r made of numerous I ams, all of them false. So is the
universe.
All of those I ams r
interlocking, part of a whole network, and r demanding. For the I am is there
as a reminder that yes, there is holographic life going on. I am the mouth, u
mouth said. Get some food and put it in here! Find some lips to kiss! Moisten
me up with some booze! I am a tooth, u teeth all screamed in unison in the
background. Find something to chomp! Quick! I wanna chomp! I am the stomach!
U stomach cried out. Burke!!! Feed me! I want something in here to
dissolve. Quick! I am hungry. C’mon u motherwucker! Let’s eat!!! And on and on
it went right down to u arsehole.
Which, when the bowels had
declared that they needing immediate voiding, u arsehole had instantly followed
suit and declared its hand. Don’t forget to wipe me good and proper! It cried
out to u. If there’s any after itching, u’ll have to give me an immediate hose
down. Rather, that is what a politician or a dentist’s arsehole would say Zero.
Wash! Is the politically correct word that your holy holey piece down there,
inbetween u rectum used. Then it reminded u that u don’t inspect it often
enough and that anything could be going on.
And u wouldn’t wucken know about it.
Then the animal, bird,
vegeatable and mineral worlds started gassing to u. Every I am declared its hand,
and stated what it wanted u to do. Everything rotating around using u senses,
temporarily. Some wanting u to just look and enjoy, others urging u to
paricipate somehow.
Some were outright pirates. I am a parking meter! A parking meter
snapped at u, as u walked innocently by it. Put some coins in me! It said, b4 u
told it to wuck off. On and on it went. Hohh! It was a cracker of a day that
and it’s still going on.
So the Lot, or the Light is
always there to be put to the test. Which is u primal ambition Zero. To try out
that primal option, I am the Lot. Something said to u, find yourself. REALLY
FIND U SELF! And u r wucking gunna in this level 2 game. All is well in the
universe because u transcendentally love It so, and It transcendentally loves u
so.
U’ve got an immaculate
partnership going with It. When u realised that u so called ego wasn’t worth a
bucket of shit really, u’s just kicked the bucket over. The spirit took care of
the mess for u because u surrended to Its favourite game. Making more cosmic
consciousness Light.
Reclaiming Its own. When u
twigged that the person that u thought u used to be, did not even exist outside
of a mind manufactured, holographic dream. Well! The sky collapsed and u just
stood there laughing u wucking guts out. U’s laughed and laughed and laughed.
Like the Kookaburra on the old Movietone news. The big let go of the imagined
person is euphoria and bliss.
Wuck! U r Road Runner ish
when it comes to this game. Onya Zero! No wucken current’s gunna tell u that u
r just a wucken mother wucking, low down, dirty rotten, piece of shit. A
limited human. Ay?!!!!! Stand up and float or zap off for u cosmic rights! Go
mystical and let u spirit take u for a spin around the cosmos. Then come back
with It firmly established in u constitution again. That’s what this is all
about. No mind is gunna get away with that ultra put down crap anymore. U’ve
got Kid Soul Spirit behind u now Zero.
U got KSS up u arse, like u
have never ever had it up u arse b4! U r a 21st century BEING! If
the alphabetic morons don’t know that by now. They soon wucken will. The wucken
currents! It’s your FEATHERHOUSE of a life, and u can do what u wucken like
with it. Tutti frutti. Wuck material booty! Give over with the spirit of the
matter, any wucking day. Is the Light there, or is IT not. YES IT IS! All
wucking ways. Find it! Find It! Find IT! Ah cha cha! What a wucken game?!!! And
don’t KSS’s absolutely love it. They play it-IT, lots and lots and lots. They
play it all of the time. This side and the other. The wucking currents.
Everyone of them wants to be a
SUN! And so they shall be. Given matter, energy, space and time. Dimensions
too. They’ll crack the Matrix. It is already written that every soul shall.
Return to the Light that spawned it. Some take the salmon’s route and flap
their wucken guts out non stop, to spawn and die much further upstream.
Others, like uself Zero, have
chosen the Eagle’s path. To get that great advantage that a little bit, or a
great deal of height brings. Being that u predators can’t get at u. But u can
get at anything. In a rocketing dive that would put the shits up Satan himself.
Horror power on u super determined face. U claws outstretched. Ready to grab
then rip apart. B4 devouring the alphabetic food that u ripped off the ground.
U came from outer space Zero.
The body came as stardust. Full of this chemical and that. Governed by
electro-magnetic fields. With the appropriate force lanes for rapid travel.
Between holograms. Or planets or planes, or whatever u want to call them.
Dimensions. Realms. On and on it goes, when u r playing with words. The
descriptions never end. They just replicate.
Later, in the middle of a
beautiful dream, u r awakened by the loud and raucous sounds of a donkey war.
It sounds like the hee haw circus of the century. U figure that the non
conformist has finally cracked and is on the move. U’s gets up and true to form
u r wearing tits again. Not to worry. The temperature is perfect and the ol’
tits won’t mind a bit of holographic moonlight. Neither will u ol’ cock, should
it happen to come back.
Outside, u observe the bust
out thru u trusty scope. U’s even eavesdrops thru the sound knob. U’s hears
Stevee giving everyone a nasty nasty, almost hateful spray as he takes off.
He’s bouncing in the air like an upside down horseshoe all right. He’s
doing the old cosmic rodeo ride. Like u seen on the Earth, every 5 seconds.
Stress, absolutely wucken dominating.
He’s kicking his back legs out everywhere. Like he’s got a ghost rider.
Or the minority organised Americanised war machine. On his pretty dirty green,
blanketed back.
He’s telling everybody to wuck
off with their stupid advice. He is calling them all lunatics. For playing a
stupid game where all that they do is go up and down like wucken yo yo’s. If
they don’t get killed by some stupid lunatic falling down the hill, that is.
“When’s the last wucken time
that u’s got a new wucken blanket?!”
U hear him scream at them,
inbetween just about the loudest individual hee haws that u’ve ever heard. Then
u observe as the beast takes off a kicking and a cussing everything known and
unknown. Across the wide open, green and grassy plain.
Thru u scope u’s witness that
the creature who seemingly has the devil programme installed, hee haws for
hours. At 4am, u go back into u tent and deactivate u consciousness chip. U
phase out for 3 hours and charge up all of u currents. U re run a few I am
Light dreams. As the thirst for rousing adventures that promote more beneficial
psychic circumstances, wells up superconsciously inside of u.
Stevee! Stevee! Stevee! U
whisper in u sleep. I am coming to get u! U mother wucker! We r gunna play the
getting the wuck out of the land of make believe game. For once. Stevee!
Stevee! Stevee! U whispers on and on throughout the long, dark night. Tossing
and turning from one side to the other.
Still, u have a classic sleep. In the land of nod, u associate with
many divine characters. Big and small. Going this way and that. Everyone who
lives under the sun is there in that cosmic article. It’s u Yellow Submarine
dream again. It is one of u favourites. It’s the magical mystery tour. It’s not
the lonely heart’s club band.
When it comes to the morning
truth though, the beast is still hee hawing and cussing away like a maniac.
Crouched down in the grass that just hides u cosmic head, from a 100 metres or
so away; u’s listens into what the wucker is on about. U’s plays donkey in the
mist, because there is a bit of mist about. U can see the beast’s ears sticking
up like rockets thru it, but that’s about it. Meanwhile, u head pops up and
down as if it belonged to a lioness. That is stalking some juicy prey.
There’s psychic meat out there
a plenty and u wucken need it. It’s easy to listen in because it is roaring in
an extraordinarily loud voice. Which is echo booming back and forth across the
valley. U don’t need no electronic bugging device. U can even hear long
distance hee haw answers coming back from the far away stables. Young Stevee is
still yelling ferociously back at them all to wuck off. Every now and again he
kicks his back legs out and boings around like an upside down U.
Trying to impersonate a Mexican jumping bean.
Shit! It is like he is full of
loco weed or something. U’s wonder how he let himself get into such a
detiorated, rotten position. The answer comes across u chemicalised mindscreen
like a flash of lightning. WORDS! WUCKING WORDS! Made of greedy letters. Kill
them all! Waste the wucking lot of them. If
u really want to be a happy Ms or a happy Chappy.
Find u silent dot of Light and
u’ll be right. No wucking word can describe that for u. U have to live it and
be it.
“What the wuck’s the wucking
point!?,” Stevee starts yelling and hee hawing. From a standing still, gazing
at the unseen enemy position. Like he’s on the stage playing some sort of
agitated and confused Shakesperian character. Who’s blazing eyes r directed out
towards a bastard sky God out there somewhere. Who abandonned him on a ball of
dirt, in a body which is chock full of
unlimited desires. Fears, frustrations and hates. A Robinson Crusoe in a skin
sack. That’s how Stevee sees himself.
With nothing much to do except
to shit and piss. Go to wucking work climbing the up and down wucken hill. Eat
and wuck. Then make war. Then repeat that cycle. Incredibly boring, ultra
violent mundane stuff really. And about as Earthbound as u can get. No wonder
that he is so wucken upset and agitated. Phoo! U can feel the steaming anxiety
coming off him from where u r Zero. It is coming at u thru the mist as sizzling
electric currents.
U can see them ionise as they
pass right thru u electro magnetic constitution. U may not be able to play with
him today. He’s just too hot headed. He ain’t go no short fuse. He’s just a
bomb that’s going off. Shit happens.
“U go up the wucking mountain,
the player gets all of the reward, and then u come wucken back down
again!!!!!,” the donkey explodes with raw venom. He launches into a speech to
the seen and unseen universe. Like he was Adolph Hitler. His lips look they r
gunna fly off.
“Do u’s ever get a new blanket
for u trouble?! A new blanket!!!!! Wucking hell!!!! U must be wucking
joking!!!,” the beast absolutely roars. Like Tarzan did in the jungle. King
Kong too.
“U’s got one a 100,000 years ago! What do u want a new blanket for?!
Well!!!!! Maybe because the wucken fleas won’t stop playing wucking football on
mine!!!! U wucking high and mighty motherwucker! Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!
I ain’t playing u stupid
worthless wucking game anymore! U can go and get ethereally wucked! I’m
striking! I want to be able to progress to level 2 with the player and I want a
new blanket! Why shouldn’t I get to go to level 2?!
The spirits wucking do!
I want some big juicy wucking
carrots in the trough 3 times a week! And a bit of strawberry wucken cordial in
the water trough now and again! U wucking current! I want Mary down my wucken
end as well. And Peter and Paul down the other wucken end! I ain’t got nothing
against them, but they make too much noise in the middle of the night. They’re
always at it, with their wucking guitars. They never stop.
So get ‘em up the other wucken
end! Get some more wucking Sheila’s down my wucken end! That’s what I want! And
if I don’t get it all, everything that I want, then I am not moving. And that’s
wucking final! I refuse to be a grease monkey any more. U can stick u going up
and down for absolutely nothing up u wucken arse!
I want more payout for me wucking troubles!
If u’s crosses my picket line,
be prepared to deal. Motherwucker! I’ll hang here in the wucken grass forever,
I don’t care. U game sucks! U hear me! It wucking sucks!!!! I wucking hate it!
As far as I am concerned, it’s wucking nonsense! Up and down! Up and down! Up
and down! It’s bullshit!!!! AND U CAN SHOVE IT UP U WUCKEN COSMIC ARSE!!!!!
Oh wuck! Wuck! Wuck! Wuck!
Give me a wucken game that is
worthy of m’ wucking talents. For wuck’s sake. That’s all that I ask! Wuck! I
just can’t do that other re run, up and down shit again! I can’t and I won’t. U’s
can kill me if u like. Zap me a with a firebolt! Thru m’bleeding heart, and
rotting mind. I don’t wucken care. I am not doing that stupid level one crap
again! Noooo way! Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!”
Then the beast, having let it
all out, turns his big arse into the wind, and farts voluminously. As has been
his pattern for a long time. He does rather like to make a wucking big stink
and smell it. For some reason.
U’s hears enough though of the
battle between Stevee’s so called lower and higher selves. U’s makes an
instantaneous decision to withdraw. Based on u intuition that u will get no
donkey whispering done today. The beast obviously being too fired up to make a
try worth it.
In fact, it turns out to be 3
days b4 the creature’s agro cools down. U don’t mind though because that other
wabbit was wonderful. The duck was succulently delicious and the snake tasted
like chicken. Their spirits fortified u fortuitously for day 4. The day the
donkey noise died right down and there was finally, the sounds of silence.
The day that Stevee rose from
the dead of his galling, vehement anger. U had a good chat with the spirit of
the snake when u gobbled it, but u knows that is nothing compared to the chat
that u r gunna have to have with Stevee. U’s gets a fish face ready for some
more whistling and clicks u temporary consciousness chip back in. Some sparks
fly out the side of u head as u do so. Time to do some donkey whispering goes
across u mindscreen, as u slips off out into the plain.
U got tits again and they bob along synchro like with u as u initiate
the stalking of u day 4 prey.
U nipples r tingling and it is
not a man’s world that u r in. It’s a spirit’s. There can be no comparison
between a make believe world and a real one. None at all. The body may endure
hell, even rape. It takes all blows, good and bad. The spirit remains pure
Light. It is never tainted with a drop of impurity. The universe takes care of
the body. Karma levels it all out in the end. It’s an intricately just system
that is powered by the Light. It cannot be beaten for special effects. No way
Jose.
“She’ll be coming thru the
mountain!,” u’s start singing.
“She’ll be coming thru the
mountain! She’ll be coming thru the mountain! Oh she’ll be coming thru the
mountain when she comes! When she comes!!! When she comes!!!! When she
comes!!!!!”
Wucken Brains! Goes across u
mindscreen. What a transcendentally loveable little character he was, and still
is. A skinny little prick with a heart of gold and a fondness for repeating
certain things, is ol’ Brains. Then the memory instantaneously deactivates.
“Hohh!,” u go suddenly like a
Samurai, as u spot the skin animal not far ahead. U’s stops dead, hidden by the
long grass that is blowing whispy like around u body head.
U shoots a few karate chops
and leg kicks off into the air and there’s these incredible woosh like noises
as u do so. They almost sound metallic. The beast’s ears stiffen. U don’t want
to have to beat the shit out of the wucken thing, u just want to be prepared.
Cosmic consciousness is a game where the peaceful deal rules. It’s pure barter
in which advantage and disadvantage r sacrificed for pure truth and pure
liberty.
U cannot live it up. U have to
let It live and Light u up. The bottom line though is that the deal is hashed
out between all of the participants in the game. The different agencies of
thought, body and heart’s desire, must be directed towards the same point or
goal. Otherwise there is nothing but chaos, the tamas and rajas aspects of
consciousness. Such as those that u get with purely material objectives.
To start the sattva in the game off, to initiate the harmonic flow, I
am Light rules. I am inner-outer governs in the Real game. Of exploding
awareness to incredibly subtle, accelerated, Light levels.
So it’s total peace with the donkey mind that u r after. There
must be an amiable sharedness of the body, and a good friends disposition in
the heart. If the real entertainment is to succeed. Or be exposed.
U’s comes up behind the now
stagnant, bum facing u, spent monster. From a cricket pitch away u gives u
signals.
“Coooooo! Coooooo! Coooooo!,”
u bird calls.
“Caw! Caw! Caw!,” u’s goes as
u breaks into a bit of Crow.
“Woof! Woof! Woof!,” u’s dog
calls.
“Stevee! Stevee! Stevee!,” u
whispers with the aid of a howling wind, which has mysteriously blown up.
Stevee’s ears go forward to the 45 degrees and then as mysteriously as it came,
the wind dies. The ears retreat back to the 90 degrees and the enemy is
listening in again. The head of the beast comes around lazily and from that bum
first presented position, u must admit. To a striking similarity between its
big arsehole and its big mouth.
“Wuck off u cunt!,” it drawls
at u in a half dead fashion.
“I told u b4, I don’t want to
wucken play!”
“What?! U don’t want to dealy
wheely, Stevee weevy?!,” u’s whispers.
The head of the beast cocks
back with desire. Its fine ears go stiff erect with temptation. Then u r in
like Flynn. They’ve done the Hulk, but u r the Flash that they call Zero. No
one saw u move. The camera didn’t pick it up on a single frame and the director
doesn’t have a clue. He’s still in his pyjamas and hasn’t really woken up yet.
He’s in a bad mood anyway because that hussy that he was after last night
turned him down flat.
U’s never left where u were to
get to where u went. U just changed points in consciousness. U hopped a ride on
an etherian vortexian current. The silent maths and geometry there, unravelled
it all for u. U got ghosted.
Instead of wasted.
Awareness did the rest. U got
up early and u got the worm alright. It’s a juicy one too, and it goes by the
name of Stevee. In much less than a second flat, u r body to holographic body
and leaning in. There’s solid touch there and for a solid creature with a super
tough hide, Stevee is as warm as toast. But his arse end stinks something
shocking. Not to worry. U’ll do something about his body odour later. U’s cups
a hand around the front, fleshless side of his right ear. Out comes u dynamite
pitch.
“I’ll advocate for u! I’ll
fight f’u rights! I’ll argue that u get some big juicy carrots 3 times a day!,”
u says.
As if u were making a speech
on u election trail. U must admit, u’s does feel like a bit of a spiritual
politician. It’s awesome, the goodness that is coming out of u gob. U r making
an offer too good to refuse, without a knife. Your blade is the honest truth
and u deal in cosmic facts, not violent persuasions. Built first of words.
Administered sometime later by the fist, bullets or bombs.
U know that whatever violence
brings will not last. U r after only what will last. Forever. It’s the rock
solid Light that is always there and lives eternally that u desire. The rest, u
wouldn’t give 2 cents for. That little birds will most likely have the odd crap
on u grave, only makes u smile. Because it’ll help to push up the wucking
daisies. And the weeds. Who have their place in the nature chain too.
“I’ll get u the finest wucking
strawberry cordial ever made on tap! If I can,” u go on. The froth already
forming around the edges of u mouth.
“I’ll get u a million wucking Marys or whomevers and a new blanket every
day, if I can swing it! I’ll get Peter and Paul shipped out to Uranus with
Roger as a mentor. How about that?! Just get me to the top of that wucking hill
mate! I know that u can do it!”
U’s is in for the kill. U’s
knows what the critter is really after deep down, because u wucken heard all
about it. In the space of a good, swift, clean fart, u r around at the other
ear. U r Zero, made of Light. A cosmic whisperer, first class.
“If u’s gets me wucking up
there Stevee…,” u’s whispers into that big, sometimes dumb, sometimes not so
dumb, other ear.
“Then I’ll argues black and
blue with the GameGoddess and the GameMaster that u get u hooves in on level 2.
I tell ‘em that u’s have earnt a shot at it and that u and I r good mates. I
tell ‘em that if u don’t go, then I’m not going either!”
“Bullshit!,” Stevee roars.
“U’d be off like a rocket! How can I trust u?! U r a spirit and spirits come
and go where my kind r concerned. U wuckers r too clever for u own wucking
good, if u ask me. I am sick of being the beast of burden. The tool! I want in
on the Real game too.”
“And u shall have it Stevee! U
shall have it!,” u’s whispers down the funnel of skin, hair and despair.
“Look!,” u says, changing
tact. “If they won’t let u in then we’ll both come back here. The grass is good
here and there’s plenty of water and food. We’ll knock up a cabin and do u some
nice mud brick stables. With insulation in the roof and a weekly blanket wash
and flea proof.
We’ll grow our own juicy
carrots and strawberries. U can have Mary up when u want and I’ll just keep
going with the meditations. We’ll sit it out and live high on the hog until
they give us what we want.”
Stevee draws away and looks at
u quizzically. Like he’s trying to sus u out by reading u subtle emanations.
Something in him gives and a smile actually comes across his formerly, oh so
hostile face. U r Zero and u were taught by the Sarge to buck any system. High
or low. U r also adamant that if level 2 is good enough for u, then it is good
enough for u donkey. It’s like when u eat, then so should u dog.
“U r wucken serious, r n’t
u?!,” Stevee queries u.
“Too bloody right mate!,” u
tell him. “U’ve put in. I think that u deserve a crack at level 2. In fact
Stevee, I think that u need to do it. To expand u horizons, u know?”
“Yeah! Tell me about!,” The
beast fires off. Sultry and surly like.
“Look Stevee! If u want this,
then u gotta play ball too,” u’s tells the one with the tough skin.
“We gotta share our skills and
work amiably together. For the same goal. U can’t be going one way and I can’t
be going the other. U know? We gotta share. We gotta never lie or try and con
the other. That which is love and light in us cannot quarrel.”
Stevee looks at u. A bit like
u r talking a foreign language.
“So what do u want to know?!,”
he asks u. With a sly old dog, been there and done that look.
“What’s up there Stevee?
What’s up the top of that hill that is so goshed damned wucking important?”
Stevee looks at u again and
the sly old dog look gets stronger.
“U r asking me to give up the
only chip that I’ve got on a say so? For a gun happy spirit who can’t stop
fondling their pearls. Who wants to blow away every word that I’ve got. U
basically want me to commit psychic suicide and die laughing! Or somethin’.”
“Sure Stevee! Sure! Isn’t
that what u really want? Isn’t that what everyone really wants? Why take
anything seriously? Neither the universe nor the cosmos do, and it it is our
job to be as much like them as possible. Ay?! To be born again as egoless
matter operating at full spiritual potential, the old self must die. It’s par
for the course mate. U know that. Come on! Don’t keep me wucken waiting! R u in
or r u out? Is it a deal, or not? Do we join up and bond, or not? Come on
Laddie! He who hesitates ends up spraying it out of their arse again. Sooner or
later.
I saw the appalling conditions
where u came from. Wucken hell! It’s a wonder that u r n’t dead already laddie.
It’s a miracle that u r still standing on 4 hooves. That’s why I picked u
Stevee. U’s has obviously got what it takes. U’s knows how to endure and stay
out of up and down trouble. Those r qualities that I admire, respect and need.
So?!!!! Do I throw in the towel or do I keep fondling me pearls? Because I’ll
tell u hootnanny quick what my preference is these fine, sunny days.”
U r eyeball to eyeball with
the critter now. U’s knows full well that this is the turning point, right
here. U’ve played all of u aces and u’ve only got one golden bullet. Which u
can’t use on him. Not yet. If he can’t see that u r holding out a bunch of
flowers, well, wuck it. U’ll just have to institute Plan X. Not that u want to,
but u’ll have to. If he still refuses to play.
“Well, I dunno!,” the smelly
bummed animal drawls at u.
“R u the new breed, or
some’in’?! How come no player offered this package to me b4?”
“Different spatial time zones
Stevee! This is the modern version of the game. Some stuff has gone down and
Earth is cranking right up for a cosmic consciousness flood. It’s a rage down
there at the moment. It’s Kali Maya though who is holding the ace. She dealt
with the etherial Highs and got the green light from the new sky Queen. To
bring the beautiful blue ball to absolutely fantastic, golden fruition. No
matter the wucking cost.
It’s already a closed case,
although there a billions who haven’t a clue that it is going on. They r still
running around killing each other with their machetes, bullets, bombs or super
stress inducing systems. It’s on
though Stevee! There’s no psychic doubt about that. Cosmic consciousness will
rule the Earth sooner or late.
The so called humans will not
survive without a massive uplift in consciousness awareness. Do u sums Stevee!
The Earth has got millions of years left in Her yet. She’s not just gunna spin
around and around twiddling Her astral thumbs for all of that time. She’s a cc
breeder. She’s a spirit nursey. So! What’s up there mate? Come on! U have my
word that I’ll never hold out a secret on u.”
“Well!…,” Stevee drawls.
Thinking, here we go again.
“There’s wuck all really.
There’s a wucken donkey lift to bring us back down to the mud, shit and fleas,
and the GG and GM.”
“Uhuh! And how do the keepers
of the Real game appear?”
Stevee cocks his head matter of factly.
“What else?,” he tells u. “Big
burning bushes!”
“Oh!,” u’s goes as u throws u
holographic head back.
“2 big burning bushes on a
mountain top, ay?! Well Stevee, at least it’s not 2 cocks in frocks on a rock
then! This I now know, and I can wucken relax at last. Thank’s for sharing
Stevee. Cup of chai mate?”
“Oh ta boss! Ta! Some chai
would hit the spot.”
All smiles, the 2 of u head
off for base camp. The beast has not yet said yay or nay, but u know that it
wants in. Stevee called u boss just once and that was enough. U’s drapes an arm
around u partner’s neck as u’s walks along. It wasn’t hard and it wasn’t easy.
It just came out and happened that u’s got it on. To be friends and team mates
cannot be planned. It’s like spontaneous combustion. If there’s no smoke, then
there’s no bang and there’s most certainly, no wucken fire.
“Stevee!,” u says. Patting a
flank. Eyeing a snow capped mountain top or 2 off at the same time.
“Yes boss!”
“Don’t call me boss!”
“Well, what do I call u then?”
“Zero.”
“Zero?! What kind of a wucken
title is that?”
“It’s the best one that I have
ever had Stevee. It means I am not a this or that, I just am, that’s all. So I
don’t have to live up to anything, nor put down everything. I just watch it all
from above and smile. Like a wucken eagle. Because I am inner-outer Light.”
Stevee shakes his big head.
“U’s spirits!,” he says. “U’s
talk a foreign wucking language sometimes.”
“We’s just go for the jugular
Stevee! If u’s ask us what the time is, we’ll just tell u that it doesn’t exist
outside of the mind. If u want the coordinates, we’ll tell u that there r n’t
any. If u ask us what bent the spoon, we’ll tell u that neither the spoon nor
the universe which pupportedly bent it, actually exist. Outside of being the
reflections of holographic projections. There’s just the one point beyond the I
am Light fix that exists, and it is full of transcendental Light. That’s our
real home.”
“Hee haw! Right on Zero! What
the wuck ever!,” fires off the beast.
Seemingly happy to be alive,
for once. Promises keep many simple beings going. Don’t they Zero? U’s is
watching him from the side and a great fondness wells up in u being for the
critter. Stevee is big, smelly and displays a passion for limiting his
intelligence. He doesn’t really have that much going for him sometimes, to tell
the absolute truth. Though he has enormous potential to branch out and explore.
He likes to follow because of
dualised indecision, and he can flash from positive to negative in a second
flat. Schizo like. There’s stuff about
him like his matter skills that incredibly attracts u though.
After seeing the appalling
conditions of the stables, u have great empathy for the creature’s predicament.
U’d like to help out him and his kind. And it is the will of Allah, Buddha,
Jesus, Nisargadatta, nice girls and boys, and all of the other ethereal Greats,
that u will. When u get to play with that glorious wake up call to git u arse
back on the road to cosmic consciousness. Like u most certainly r. Because u r
playing the Real game. Even in u sleep, u r playing it.
The ones who hear about the
Real game play it. Because it is irresistible to the body senses that they can
go way beyond themselves. So that which was once perceived as worthless and
ultra violent, being the human entity. Becomes illuminated as a most worthy
vehicle of the Light. A rootin’ tootin’ cosmic player with a pair of pearls
that a sky God would die for. That’s u Zero. And the mind is just a sense.
Within which the rudimentary
framework for the Real game is manifested holographically. With a mind u can
sense the transcendentally benevolent nature of the cosmos. Sort out and kill
the word karma and the other words. Like love and hate, and the seven deadly so
called sins. Will sort themselves out.
That is why the mind is such a
beautiful tool. It has unbelievable spontaneity built into it. If u tap into
the right spontaneity, the spirit one, u will need not lift a finger for the
Light to come out. From Its hiding place, being everywhere. U will no longer
have to labour with the universe. Your glorious universe. Effortlessness will
be u middle name. Spontaneous perfection will roll of the tip of u tongue. If u
lift a finger, it will be done gracefully. U will never make a smelly fart.
Though the universe that owns the body will make lots. And lots and lots.
That day when I am inner-outer
Light is lived by all so called human beings will come. 50 to a 100 years
hence. Here then, in that future time, there will be no war. Nor any
celebration or remembering of war. History can be played with. Manipulated,
twisted and done over to suit the hard, killing line of the state of the day.
Eve….o…wucking….lution though.
Will leave u’s for dead. U will get no second chance. U sky God and u’s
flag will be useless to u’s. Don’t kill was THE WORD. It always has been and it
always will be.
The one with cosmic
consciousness lives as the sun lives. Their Light lights up planetary skies.
Worlds turn around and they just watch them spinning. In love with their
motions. The one who uses words non stop, doesn’t live like that. Not while
they r awake and on the warpath. When they r asleep, maybe. Depending on who
they r astrally hanging out with. If indeed, they r hanging out with anyone at
all.
In love with the peace and
serenity of being out there. As a point in consciousness, just watching. As
bliss watches itself. The cc ones r. Some of them return to mortal bodies.
Their work not yet done. The 3rd dimension still being quite intact.
To get back on the road to cosmic consciousness, is to totally and utterly
destroy the world in which u live.
U have to be prepared for
that. To go way outside of u survival belief system. Once u sense the true
nature of the mind’s clever beyond belief illusion, the physical world will
start dissolving. Eventually, it will be far distant, like a dreamworld. It
will become what it really is. Pure holographic projection. U will be back in
the Light that is projecting it all. Or allowing for the projections to take
place. Many, many universes being included in that. U will be in the Light that
is doing that. As a cell of that. And as the entirety too.
U will be existing at a level
where all is transcendental bliss. U powers to manifest here and there, in any
universe. As this or that, being unlimited. Can u see Zero, why the Light
company didn’t contact u b4 they did? They waited till u were good and ready.
And had already taken the cosmic consciousness fork in the road. U’s had been
enquiring for some time and u’s passed their curiosity test.
U got ten out of ten actually.
U asked who the wuck am I really?! Some time happened. Lots of weird, wonderful
and whacky experiences too. Throw in some wucken horror ones into that crazy
pack as well. Then an inner Voice of multitudinous proportions said. It just
came out of u some wucken how.
I am the Light.
That’s all that it said.
Straight away the spirit went phweeeetttt! Over here Sport!!!! This way
Princess!!!! C’mon Queenie!!!! Shake a leg old girl!!!!
So u’s did, for once. Go their
way. U’s joined up and got u arse kicked from one end of cosmic boot camp to
the other. It was fun, but hard wucken yakka.
They just picked u up on u
subtle wavelength and said. U’ll do! U’ll do just nicely. There was no final,
absolute rejection there. Like u get from the outside so much. When u apply for
or try to flog this or that. U labour or u product. U heart included in those 2
categories. They didn’t push u into playing the hottest game in the universe
either. U rang them on the unconscious cosmic phone and told them that u wanted
to play the Real game. U’s buzzed ‘em quite a lot, b4 they turned the answering
machine off.
The buggers will not risk any
body going rogue on them. That’s why they waited so long for u to make all of
those, yoo hoo! I am Light too, super calls. U can’t fling highly refined
spiritual power around, without being totally and utterly benevolent. As a rock
solid piece of the all peaceful Light Itself. U can’t have psycho cosmic
consciousness. Old Ma Earth wouldn’t last a day, if’n u’s did. Neither would
the universe.
To go cc is to blast
apparently solid atoms much further apart, with u new spiritual power. Don’t
worry about u’s connections. U will be escalating them to new heights,
relationship wise. It is all done holographically. There is no need of or use
of materially manifested technology. Or the fist. U just put different
chemicals into u brain, naturally. A bit of meditation, constant witnessing and
the I am Light stuff, triggers off the dynamite electrons.
It’s a dream come true game.
Is On The Road To Cosmic Consciousness. And unlike Monopoly, u never get stuck
in jail. Aware Kid Souls love it. They struggle like hell with it in the early
days. Phoo! They buck and buck and buck their spirit rider. Those who don’t get
it just go on killing. And racking up the negative karma on themselves. Pretty
crazy stuff.
U Zero, like many, many
others, has noted that a lot goes into a holographic life. U r starting to take
note of the energy conservation line. A kid soul can run numerous lives
simultaneously. It stands to reason that the supply lines can get stretched.
Though a big bump up always follows lack. Stretched or bumped up. U’s has to
take it as one thing, and cut the duality perception’s throat.
U have to slay that almost
instantaneous, I like, I dislike dragon. And perservere with u I am, till
doomsday comes. Till u get that Matrix of a word filled mountain in u sights.
There is much astral planning
that goes into a mortal life. It takes a while to organise it all. U just don’t
pop out of the mother body, with nothing on u mind. If anything, it is the
opposite. U’ve got there in the little bub’s psychic head, deep down, u blueprint
for u life. U got shit to work on. U got karma to sort out and wucking level
up. U wanna be smiling the next time that u r sitting in the featherhouse,
giving u’s accounts. To u Self.
U got coordinates to match up. U’s has got some freewheeling to do too.
U’s have to meet so and so,
and do this and that with them. U have to balance out all of u relationships,
over u entirety of projections. U have to get them into the inner-outer
perspective. U just can’t trust the ground for giving any semblance of the true
reality. Wuck! Even an astral wucking moron wouldn’t do that.
The one that u end up hating
the most down here, may be the one who transcendentally loves u’s the most. On
the other side. U never know. They
could be u ultimate tester. Who will push u behind u belief lines, something
shocking. So u have to be dead careful. U have to be able to push and power
uself to be able to read u plan in
life. Because no one else wucken knows it.
All dependance on any outside
authority being absolutely futile. Even the Guru, if they happen. Is put there
by the Light that lives inside-out of u, as the Lot. U have to use u vision and
stabilise uself with the Real facts. U have to give up the crap and stop
imagining that anything could ever annihilate u or finish u off. Because that
is utter rubbish. The body mind machine Zero was born to play the Real game.
That’s u only truth, in a sea of lies.
U’s has to realise that u Real
Self is all for u, and right up u arse. Wanting u to have it all, 24/7. All that
u have to do is to let IT blow thru u. By totally identifying with IT. Instead
of a named shape in a hologram. Simple. Any kid could do it. U just go. I am
dead to the body and the mind. U don’t go wuck them! U treat them with a much
more heightened, inner-outer interest.
With what the Master called,
affectionate detachment. U want to do the right thing by them. They r u’s tools
and u’s real job is to manufacture cosmic consciousness. With them. U want that
which u represent as spiritualness to really get in there and wucking charge
them up. With a cracking thirst for the Real game. U don’t want them to play
dead as a rabid dog anymore. All wucked up by this and that. That’s wucking
boring.
U’s has played enough of that limitation shit and it wucken sucks.
U want some spiritual action!
Whatever is happening to the body mind machine then, is not happening to u. Who
u really r as the Lot, contains all body mind machines. Every thing that exists
in the cosmos, is your body, or being. Which lives INSIDE of u. No one then
could deny that the Real game is not a most worthy, super dooper challenge.
Once u get the hang of it, it kind of puts a different accent on the Earth
world. Thank wuck.
When u awaken to the lot of it
really being u. In the sense that it is all going on on your very private
mindscreen. And that without u sense of I am, nothing on the screen would
exist. It would just dissolve back into pure consciousness. Like it will do
eventually anyway. No problemo. U r away. The soul has cast its moorings and is
sailing.
Do what It u spirit Light
wants for a change, so that the chance happening stuff doesn’t wuck u up too
much. Go I am Light, and wuck the rest of the word identity crap off! Forget
about God! God’s 3 letters. U r none. Nothing can describe u as a spirit. There
r no words.
God’s cool. God is great. An
ingenious holographic programme. God makes everything beautiful. That’s God’s
purpose. God doesn’t reason stuff out, or take sides. Or judge. God just makes
things beautiful. Be it a scented flower to the so called human eye. Or worms
crawling thru a dead humanoid body. It’s beautiful to God. It’s a happening
holographic process that naturally sorts everything out, eventually. It is
exactly what is required for that event. God allows for manifestation, then
takes care of demanifestation. Then recycles.
The clouds come and go, so
does the rain. God is a tireless, spontaneous worker for the universe. Which in
turn, is a tireless worker for the cosmos. Which in turn is a tireless worker
for u Real Self Zero. It’s a super curly plot, ay?! Just as well that u picked
which way the paradoxical wucker plot was spinning. Finally. Because at first u
thought that it was gunna go one way, in the direction of I am limited.
Then, mysteriously and
mystically, it just broke. And fanged the other wucking way. The way of I am
unlimited. Cool! U’s thought I am Light and it was a pretty good joke.
Considering what u’s had thought uself to be, up until that point that u picked
the paradoxical spin. And what u’s had been saying to uself. Wuck! U’s called u
wucken self just about everything under the sun. Except u Self. Which is where
u start from, never leave really, but always end up. As Light again! Ah cha
cha! To deny It is to piss into quite a formidable wind. Because at the dreaming level, any wucken
thing can happen.
The mind may get lost in cause
and effect, it usually does. It loves the nowhere analysis. It got told to sort
it all out with words. It gives its all in that department. It’s working wucken
overtime. The dreaming though, just goes on being on automatic. To switch back
to manual, drink of I am Light 24/7. Live it, breathe it. It’s U!
The wucker mind keeps tricking itself with a very false, limited
version of reality. That the words conjure up. Kill this.
Not good for when u do the
dark side slide, as u will. All of u wucken life, unless u do something about
it now. In the present is contained the essence of the future. U must pull
uself out of the 3rd dimension and get uself a path that leads
straight back to the road to cosmic consciousness. U naughty, naughty
projection.
I am Light is direct and straight to the point. It cuts thru the chase
like a super powerful laser. It doesn’t take that long to click with It.
Because it’s the truth. U go
advance, retreat, advance, retreat and so on with it. Until u slip into the
advance, advance, advance pattern. That u know so well, from u glory days in
the astral.
So that u r playing the same wucking game down here, that u’s is playing
in heaven.
Or the 4th and 5th
dimensions, where u can FEEL the vibrations of the atmospheric transcendental
LOVE. Like a mortal hears piped music at a big railway station. Where tensions
can and do run hot. The music is classical and so r the theives who haunt the
dirty rotten, low down, Earth station.
The takers of cc love psychic,
more than material destruction. They always follow up a show with a bit of
manifested creation. Inbetween, Eve….olution, does her thing. Slowly, creepy
crawly like at first. Then with a big bang, representing the Kali Maya force
installed into the game. The age of Aquarius some call it.
Without Kali Maya’s
unconditional love, the spirits from the sky would never get a game going on
the ground. They would have no pitch to play on in either their self or cosmic
consciousness forms. Matter is just the spirit condensed to look like
something. The mind, not some sky God. Is the trigger factor as regards
appearances and disappearances. Of the One entity.
No wonder then that the
100,000 saluted m’Lady with gusto and unbridled transcendental love. Back there
in cosmic boot camp, She sure promised a lot more than a 1,000 years of peace.
She spun a wucking good line and She hooked a lot of wucking kid souls in. Into
her constitution. Her scent is that of a super dooper challenge.
The spirits surround Her like
flies around a wucken honeypot. She’s a super bloody Bitch! She really wucking
is. She desires that heaven should come down to Earth. To kiss and caress Her.
And make transcendental love to Her. With a slow, astral hand. She’s gunna get
It one day too. She’s a dimension mixer. The ultimate success for Her is
written in that realm where past and future live together.
Not side by side, rather in
each other. It is all there now actually. It’s the natural in u. All that u
have to do is to activate it or It with, I am Light. The simple wucking truth.
No matter how many so called humans u have so far killed. U r It, forever. And
u always have that divine choice. To start turning it all around. So that u
live in u Light, instead of in u dark shadow.
Not one of them, of the
100,000 gang that left, called themselves a Jehovah. Nor a Muslim, a Christian
or anything else. They didn’t even call themselves human beings. This stance
was their ace in the I am made of Light deck. So everyone of them had I am
Light powering thru them. Thru their psyches. Isn’t that wucking amazing?!
That such raw spiritually, non dual intelligent essence. Could dwell
upon the horribly full of vicissitudes, dualistic Earth. In the matter form
too. This tells u all! About who is really who, and what is really what. As far
as this planet is concerned.
This tells u that cc is
already here and already there. Lurking beneath the surface of the psychological
dialogue of the common, so called human creature. That other most cosmic,
currently closeted I am inner-outer creature. Is now on the Earth. Which the
meek, though mighty in heart, and unbelieving of anything in a belief system;
shall inherit.
With the correct I am going thru u, u owe u existence to no one or
thing. Except u Kid Soul and the rest of u Real Self. In which u r the little
part and the whole simultaneously. And u r totally free and totally happy about
that too. When fear is just a word and u’s can kill words easily. Then u’s is
hot to trot.
No strings attached, u r the
one, who can become the ONE, in a click of the fingers. It’s in u and It’s out
of u to do that. It is u divine destiny to turn all of the third dimensional
shit, upside down and inside out. Many r doing nothing else these days. They r
wucking bucking, that’s for sure. They appear to be struggling, but they r
really just locating their real cosmic juice. Finding their spots. Internally,
they seek warlessness. Outside, they will not support war or redneckness. They
struggle with love and hate. With slaughtering their alphabets, they have a
date.
They r aware that purity of
soul is what is important and that purity of blood is myth and illusion. As
much as is a blood and iron brain. That all r equal in the holographic games
that the Light hosts, they know. That dirty men and dirty women of every
violent colour, r on the way to the cosmic laundromat, they also know. Black
money will die as a fascination soon, they sense. Many feel that in their
bones, despite the garbage on the so called news. Which is just dead easy to
switch off.
If u perservere earnestly and
keep whittling back down to just I am, u will find many sweet answers there.
Quickly too. There will be the seeing, feeling and thinking of new stuff that
will tickle u’s fancy. By completely blowing u mind. Care not and worry not
about survival in the present or the future. Stay out of the body. Aloof.
Interested. Compassionate towards it. But dead to it as identity.
U r never born, never died.
Timeless, spaceless and causeless. The whole lot and the beyond too, u r.
Without u’s I am, nothing is Zero. Check it out. Go any way that u want. U’s I
am ALWAYS come first. U have to say, this is real first. B4 what is real for u
gets those 4 letters attached to it. With u, everything appears to be. But u r
not fooled.
U r aware that behind every
appearance, is the Light. Behind that which u love and adore, and behind that
which u revile and hate. Even desparately wish to get rid of, is the Light.
Your Light, u, as u Real Self. U r Zero! U will not get fooled again! By a
donkey mind.
U’ve got a good one now. It’s flushed its vile anger out and it’s
compromised. It will play u spirit’s game now and dream of mighty fine stables.
Plus washed, flealess blankets, cordial and carrots on tap. And Mary or Peter,
Paul, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, or
Jesus living next door. Or down the track somewhat.
U’s watches it as u pats its
filthy neck. U kind of, well u r, let’s face it. U r giving it a neck hug. Some
bold pats too. U have got uself a fine tool here and u’s knows it. Treat it
well and it will get u to the top, goes across u mindscreen. U’s licks u cosmic
chops. This u tells uself. This, should be good. It should be a cracker of a
fun filled, Real game. And about wucken time too.
Wuck! U had a shitload of days
where u thought that u’d never, ever graduate to do the level 2 trip. U only
made it by the skin of u wucken teeth really. U’ve always been arsey in life
Zero. Ay?!
U’ve always been a flukey sort
of a wucking current. A Gladstone Gander type. Not an Uncle Scrooge. It’s
finding the delightfully unexpected exquisiteness that u’s spirit puts in u
mortal path. Not jumping around the moneybin like a wucken dickhead, that
interests u.
Wucken magic the way u so
often find uself in the right spot, at the right time. So it stands to reason
that u finally got the level 2 break. Transient chance brought it to u on a
golden plate. It was an offer that u just couldn’t refuse. Just like the
Fremantle doctor. Or a pretty girl. Or a handsome stud. Or a bit of a mix of
both.
Look at those wonderful
wucking 4 legs! Holding up that superbly shaped body. Those legs will get u up
there to the top of those mountains. U’s can feel that truth pumping thru u
holographic veins like roaring floodwaters. Look at those wucken ears! They’ll
pick up any sound as together, as a united team, u negotiate the narrow, cliff
faced trails of yonder big hill.
Look at those big beautiful
eyes! They’ll spot a meal for u’s from kilometres away. If those wucken big
nostrils don’t smell it out first. Or warn u of an opposite stink ahead.
The stench of death, doom and destruction.
All in all, u’s is walking
along with a spirited machine. As far as soul technology goes, it is all class.
It has proved itself time and time again. On this or that holographic set. The
touch of its hide is magnificence itself. U’s must admit that a warm, friendly,
willing body does indeed, turn u on. Now and again. Even with the awareness
that it is all psychic holographics.
With the most sophisticated
piece of spirit technology on the cosmic market, u’s strolls along. A rather
satisfied cosmic smirk is upon u’s expert donkey whisperer’s face. U know how
to deal with these beasts. That’s for wucking sure. It is on its way to the 5th
dimension, where what it wishes to manifest will happen instantaneously. But
first u must clear duality out of its system. Because the non dual, Real Self
will not abide that which is anti self or anti Self.
It will only expose Its Light
to those who say they r Light too. Dark-light to It just does not exist. Any
more than u would not go and see a turdy flick which just doesn’t interest u.
Because it is superficial childish rubbish and not your topic at all. It, the
Light, the Real Self, will not enter dark-light holographic movie houses. U
cannot attract It with I am inner.
It’s wucken impossible. It
just accomodates the reflections of Kid Souls playing, like the grass soaks up
the dew. That’s all. If It wants to blow something up and watch the fireworks,
it will take out a star system or 2. If It wants the full show, to implode or
explode a universe is nothing to It. Why in the wuck would It come into a
poxhole 3rd dimension, unless u invite It? As the best cosmic friend
that u’ll ever have. U kid soul.
Do that and It will come here,
now. And blow right thru u. Why? Because It transcendentally loves u. Why?
Because u r a piece of It that has turned It on to the whole lot of Itself again.
And It wucking loves that. Phoo!!!!!!
Does It wucking ever. Deliver
cosmic consciousness by a lot more than the mungrel barrel. It gives u the
entire well that’s underneath and what’s in the sky too. Right to the infinite
border of this universe. The others too. Into that realm of dimensional
overlap. To be the Light again. That’s what u want, that’s u wucken heart’s
real desire. Wuck the wucking rest of it. That’s all illusion. Wuck! All that u
can do with that shit is to put it on the back burner. Forever.
When u got back on the road to
cosmic consciousness, u just said goodbye to the old world Zero. Because u
realised that there is absolutely nothing that can be done for it. To save it
or fix it up. Fiery hearts and totally redeemed minds r going to knock it off.
It’s just gunna die. That’s what 3rd dimensions do. This one has
already died for u. U r more 4th dimensional now than u’ve been for
a long time. It feels good to be so much lighter. And very clear in the head
about what it is that u must do. For the good of the entire organism, called
the cosmos.
U didn’t have anything to do
with the illusory good versus evil war that buried the 3rd
dimension. But u went to the funeral. U had flowers in u hair and u danced
gracefully on its grave. U sang happy, I love the universe songs with all of
the others. Who r at the same level of peace awareness as uself. Who know that
I am inner-outer Light rules in this fair cosmos. Money greed, oil and mortal
power r toilet paper to those who click with the Real game. Mere tinsel. Fool’s
gold. Juvenile soul stuff.
Just as George and John r just
names best remembered for beautiful music, rather than for a whole lot of
totally unnecessary and evil killing. The gold that u r really after is in u
heart. It is a little speck of Light. To turn it into an omniverse, click on
the 5th dimension. That’s the inner-outer one.
Honour and nurture the child
is the code of species who succeed with most brilliant, psychic evolutions.
Kill the child with a bullet or a bomb, or starvation. Or senseless word
nonsense. Disguised as an economic, military-industrial, sky God system. And
everyone dies. Sooner or later. As the entire civilisation implodes. Look what
happened with Atlantis when their egos got too big. They blew up, then they
drowned. Like dirty rats. Wuck doing that again Zero. That’s a waste of time
and u r hot for level 2. Wuck the level 1 wucken re runs. U’ll leave that for
the politicians and the rest of that violent wucking rabble.
U gotta focus on what’s light,
if u wanna ride all of the way to the Light that is cosmic consciousness. Have
u got the bare necessities of physical life? Some decent food and some decent
drinking water. Shelter. That’s all that u need to play the Real game. U don’t
need an outer soul mate. U gotta find u’s inner one. U’s gotta find u kid soul
spirit.
Turn u back to the darkness of
the seriously underated value of just living peacefully. And being a wucken
glorious nobody. Nothing special. Just a gun player agent for the Light company.
Not rich and famous. Not
getting a movie root every half hour.
U got uself into a pickle u wucker! Now u have to get uself out of it
Zero. Cease to give futility u fascination and it will dissolve in front of u
eyes.
Trip the light fantastic with
u own Light the Self the Lot and just watch everything in the mind. Like u r
surfin’ the tele, on a bad, wintry night. Where there’s nothing that holds u
interest for longer than 5 seconds. It is all basically shit. Dark and light
plots re run to the craphouse. With a very lopsided emphasis on the dark ones.
Oh! Wuck-a-duck! U wucken love
it! U really do. U loves this existence shit! How exquisite it is to be here. A
bit of sensual, sensuosness does sometimes hit the spot. Ah cha cha! What a
treat it is to wuck around with spirited consciousness! To be sentient is a
gas. Ay?! Hell’s bells! It’s light to dark, dark to light, then all Light. It’s
not dark at all where u’s really come from. It’s as Light as hell. Would u have
had it any other way than the way that u’ve had it?! Nahhhh! U wouldn’t Zero!
Because it wouldn’t be u. Wuck
Zero! The wucking tales that u could wucken tell if u sifted thru u cosmic
memory banks. Wuck a duck! U were good, u were bad. Others were good or bad to
u too. In a myriad of different settings. U could spend infinity getting it all
out. So many tremendously exhilirating experiences! So many wucking horrible
wucken ones too! What a wucking movie! Ay?! It’s wucken fun being part of a
deathless eternity! Isn’t it?! Where u can have u own wucking big bang. If u
play u cards right and expect nothing from the big bang. Apart from that which
u already have, in cosmic abundance. Tutti frutti. Is a spirit rooty.
When u r on the cc road and u
security is inner-outer Light. Everything is just right. Tutti frutti and ah
cha cha. U r in the Cosmic bank as a spirit player, always. Make a withdrawal
of u own Light anytime, by being pleasantly humble to uself and what’s about u.
If the head on intimacy is a hassle, then take the circle route. Find the
common ground, if there is any left. Or just stay away and mix with your own
kind of being. Even if that’s just u self, as body mind machine.
It’s not terrible or horrible
where there r no illusions about who or what is made of Light. Or who or what
rules the game. Not like or dislike, that’s for sure.
It’s all the same. Peel away
the name and shape and all that u’ll get is consciousness, is much better. See
the film as a mindfilm and u r home. Back on the road to u beloved cc, most mystical
level. U Light body, some call it. That a transcendental, mystical love is the
divine umpire, is quiet well known here. It is felt that the TRANSCENDENTAL
LOVE LIGHT RULES.
That is most appreciated.
There is no fear of
retribution. The featherweight is determined by the individual soul. No one
else. There is nothing to strive to do or undo. There is just life. One life,
where cells play on different dimensions. On the road to cosmic consciousness,
I am inner-outer Light is all that u need, because that is what u really r. The
truth kills depression and despair far quicker than any drug, pill or metal
bullet ever could. It kills it forever too.
This is its big advantage over
an artificial, chemical pill. The Real pill. I am Light, does far, far more for
the chemistry of the overall construction. It initiates a process where the
entire Light body becomes hell bent on manifesting. On the 3rd
dimensional plane. The first sign of
this is a feeling of an enormously deep peace, when in the prescence of such
realised types. Be it uself, or others. When u mind is dead still and silent,
everybody benefits.
It is as though the cc ones r
perched in a vast void of utter stillness and quiet. And have consented to
enter a dreamworld, to converse with u. They will not have it any other way
though, other than to tell u and tell u and tell u. That u r who they r. That
there is no difference between u. That u r both equally the Light and the lot.
They will tell u that if there
is a difference, it is the one that u have put there. With u mindtool. Which is
all fogged up with letters, numbers, words, concepts, abstractions and
manifested, 3D images. All rotating around this shitball of lies about who u
really r.
Where u really come from.
Where u r going to and what u r really doing. With u association with a body
form in a 3rd dimension. To the point of almost living total
illusion, because of self identification with just about everything but the
truth. Of u glorious transcendental origins. And impeccably flawless Light body
design.
Come on Zero! Deep, deep, deep
down, u transcendentally love uself, and uSelf. And u could only wish for u
whole construction, with all of u kid soul, that u should crack this Matrix
case. And set uself totally FREE. Don’t u?! Don’t u Zero!? U’d wish the same
thing for those other inmates too. Ay?!
U don’t have any rotten wrath for uself or them left, do u?! That was
just a side effect of the frustrations and vicissitudes of the fair and rotten
Earth. That u hated dreaming stuff that wasn’t worth hating. It all came from
the I am inner crap anyway.
U’s has shelved all of that
now though. Haven’t u Zero!? U r in fair go territory. Ay?! Fair go for both
uself and u Self. U r on a big time cosmic winner. For wucking once. U have
narrowed down desire to kill the Matrix, and that feels mighty good. It’s honky
dory. That’s what it wucking is.
That’s the truth boss Zero,
which only u can realise. No one else can do it for u. In the real game, u
alone R. The only One who is really Real. That’s the paradox because as words
it sounds like a real lonely place to be. To be the only ONE that really is.
For a social animal, that’s pretty frightening. For a future spiritual giant,
it’s something else.
Because, on the other hand, u
know that u awareness will rapidly accelerate to sun like proportions. Where
fears, angers and hatreds just do not exist. Nor time and space, or the rest of
the made up, drummed up bullshit. That so called humans associate themselves
with. From birth to death.
U know that u’ll get to ride
the blessed River of Light. U can’t pass up such a cosmic oppurtunity, no way.
U r not a moron, u r Zero. The one. Wuck lonliness, it’s just a wucken word.
There is no separation, nor any word language that can even approximate the
truth. Not where u r really found again as the Real.
The Company’s game has given u a sweet pill for the pursual of
enlightenment.
Within a heaven on Earth
environment. It’s called holographic life. Real life! Getting a shot or 2 off
at the wucken Matrix. Not imaginary pussyfooting around in a dreamt up 3rd
dimension. If u r into this game, heaven on earth has already started for u. In
u, the cosmic consciousness virus is strong. Very strong actually. If it
wasn’t, u would not have got this far. With this footnote to all sleepers. That
it is time to click on the Real game, level 2. In mass numbers too. Because
there is no sense in flogging a dead horse in level 1. The 3rd
dimension is dying naturally. No wucken sense at all in trying to prolong its
death throes.
To live the cc road is u real
destiny. Not wucking death! Death is as much a part of the illusion as u mighty
cock or tremendously exhilirating fanny is. Wuck! U know that Zero! Smell the
voluminous shit of the mortal sure. See right thru it with u spirit’s glasses
on and u’ll see the voluminous beauty too. It’s in u. It’s out u. It’s outside
of all of that too. It’s the liberty of choice. The cosmos is an atom too it. U
r there in spirit. U r always there in spirit. That’s the secret, the Light is
u. U went and totally lost uself and played the single bum. But that was
yesterwuckingday. These days, u’s arsehole is the wucking cosmos. Ah cha cha!
U’s have got cosmic
consciousness in u. And the universe wants it. The cosmos is telling It to get
it. If u don’t start giving it pretty soon, they r gunna come and get it.
They’ll suck it right out of u with a big psychic, astral straw. U only wucking
hope. To play the Real inner-outer game and see if u can't short circuit those
mungrel wuckers.
The ignorant inference that
they should have to come and get u. B4 u have completed u holy mission. Hohh!
Any suggestion that u don’t have it in u to wake up and blow the wuck out of
the Matrix, being absolute wucking bullshit. We’ll find out who is really made
of what in the Real game, and who has got wucking what on their wucking side.
Won’t we Zero?! We’ll wucken find out. Don’t u wucken worry about that. It is
being written, right now.
The day that the Company sent
u that reminder letter, they did the right thing. And so the wuck did u. U
desired Earth for a bit of a psychic tune up, and that’s what u got. Lock,
stock and barrel. U desired to play the Real game via the Earth programme entry
point known as the vagina. That’s what u wucken got too. Something later in u
just went CLICK! And well, here u wucken r. On the road to cosmic wucking
consciousness, once again.
It’s that old wucken winding road that leads to that brand new, very
old spot, that u’s is wucking with. Tickle u arse with a feather right now. U r
a lucky, lucky, lucky daughter or son of a spirit. U surely, surely, surely
wucking r Zero.
People out there r dying like
flies, with brains full of ignorant shit and massive sorrows. Yet here u r, as
cool as a cucumber. Really about to live it up. Those out there r being
slaughtered by the pain and misery produced by supersaturated, bullshit
thinking. When everybody is going I am inner, watch out. Because there will be
trouble around the corner. And the next corner, and the one after that. And so
on. Big trouble too. All of the wucken way.
That release from the mortal
hell that u get at the point of death, is yours right now. U’s concaved u
astral and withdrew from the manifested form. Now’s u’s just watch whilst the
universe plays it out. U’s has pulled out all rotten seriousness from the
construction. U’ve gone to the witness station. Shit, u’ve got eternity on u
side and nothing can really kill u. What’s to wucken worry about? U’s is really
as free as a bird, when it comes to this cosmos.
U r slaying the dragon. Now well known as the Matrix. The real Matrix.
The one that is made up of letters and symbols and which dwells like grease in
the subterranean depths of the mind tool. Which is hanging at some sort of
dimensional sewer level. For reasons unknown too. Considering that It is all
made of Light.
The illusory person, built of
holographic memories, fears and desires though, must die. U have to kill that
composite image which struggles like a worm on a hook, and just be. Really
cool, and calm about all of this business. Get it together! Where did the Light
really go? It went absolutely wucking nowhere! Some arsehole just stuck a dirty
great big alphabetic poster over it, that’s all. U’ll rip the wucking thing off
in this game Zero. Then u’ll wipe u donkey’s arse with it.
That’s all. That’s all that u
gotta do. Wuck off what any mind, including u own, says about having to be a
this or that word or words. Who must DO this or that, to be successful in life.
And just BE. Get the mind back to its natural, Light backed, buoyant level and
just act naturally. Like u r the Lot. In one of u many disguises. Will any so
called human spot u?! No need to wucken worry about that. If they can’t even
spot themselves, then how the wuck r they gunna spot the cc u?! The aliens have been down here since day 1.
They r everywhere. Just like cats, dogs and chooks. The so called
humans though r still looking for them at 12 o’clock high. This tells u all,
about so called humans. Who look in the wrong place.
A Voice will tell u, sooner or
later, that u r working for the Lot. U r Self employed. As the Lot, u want a
lot of cosmic consciousness to happen in u, and around u. It, uSelf, wants u
and everybody else to have sun like awareness. So as to super accelerate u
consciousness level. That’s all. That’s all that IT wants. So u chose to do the
Earth to get here where u could wuck with the Real game. U chose wucken really well Zero! Good
stuff spirit amigo!
From the unseen, u plotted and
planned a doozy of a wucking path thru the vicissitudes of the seen. U’s ended
up at exactly the right railway station, and at exactly the right time. U
boarded that cosmic consciousness bound train. That was going choo choo choo!
As it rolled smoothly and sweetly, out of that very Earthbound station. For a
moment u even thought that the station platform was moving. Till u realised
that it was just the shit on the mindscreen that was being left behind. Then
dissolving.
What a wucking mystical
current u r Zero?! Remember, once u start the Real game, u cannot stop it. It
is a zillion to the nth times more addictive than heroin, or sex, the Real game
is. The tiniest whiff of inner-outer, outer-inner, and u r gone. It’s great.
Once u say once, I am Light, and u let it sink deep in with all of its
ramifications. U can never return to the misgiuded illusion that u represent
one struggling body only. Until u r riding that great big, beautiful River of
Light then, u will not be able to stop it. U cosmic masturbation of u ability
to make psychic discovery after psychic discovery, will just go on and on and
on. To circle and ponder the pure I am is bliss.
U’s pats and rubs u pearls
again.
I got me some satiswuckingfaction here! Eat y’heart out Mick! B4 some
hussy does. Goes across the mindscreen. Like a wild Angie dog. U used to be
loaded up with hate and fear. Now u’s is loaded up with blissful awareness that
the Real game really is on. Big time too. Ah cha cha!
“I love the universe! Oh I
love the universe!,” u sing.
Stevee grins. He’s happy too.
Like a child who likes to have an amiable adult around. To cook and sew for
them. To clean up their shitty mess and buy them icecreams.
The
Bonding Ceremony
U and Stevee spend the night
chatting and discussing tactics. U’s knocks back quite a few chais. The morning
comes quickly. U find uself involved in what could only be described as a
marriage ceremony. Someone has let all of the other donkeys out and they r
standing all around u and Stevee. They r spaced 10 metres or so away in a
circle. U’s is all out where the lillies grow in the fields. The sun is beaming
and rolling fields of green, backed by snow capped mountains r behind u. A bit
of yeoldling wouldn’t be out of stray in such a picture.
Shit! It’s good to be alive.
In the sound of Real music country.
A hologram can be fun.
There’s some sort of tennis
ball sized light in front of u two. A throaty voice is coming out of it. It’s
head high to u and as stationary as a goal post.
Mary is one of the
bridesmaids, Alf is u best man. The first thing that u r gunna do after the
wedding though, u have already decided, is to clean Stevee’s arse up. It stinks
something chronic, though the only one who is offended by it is u. The other
donkeys couldn’t give a shit about it. To them it smells like perfume. They r
that used to it. The ball of light is not into smell. It’s just showed up to do
the ceremony. As usual, u r on u own, when it comes to what’s on the wucken
nose.
Just like when u’s were plying
u way thru that mungrel of a 3D Earth hologram. It appears then that the stakes
r the same in the 4th dimension. Or wherever the wuck u r. U r
dreaming of the sluice though. U’ll have the water warm then, to be fair to the
beast. U’ll also have the nozzle up full throttle too. How else r u gunna clean
the cosmic mirror that is the mind donkey.
There’s dead words in that
there fecal crust. Millions r the wucken ideas in them. U’ve just picked 1 that
tells u that u r made of Light to ride. Now u mission is to destroy the rest.
U’s pats u pearls again.
U’s rubs them fondly and the
glee of the feeling is mighty forthcoming. U r smiling and u r smirking. U r
not Abbot though and u r definitely not Costello. Little curly ectoplasms r
riding their way up thru u guts. Headed for the heart area they r. Because I am
nothing is true. Then again, so is I am everything. That’s the paradox that
u’ve come to crack. Because beyond that is the River of Light and a golden
surfboard with your name on it. The name means nothing.
That old River of Light though
is going where u super deep in u soul, wanna go. Also, the golden board is
free, if u can get to it. The animal standing beside u can get u part of the
way. U need it to get to the launch pad! The trick, to manage it properly and
to be aware when the wucker is pussyfooting around. With word illusions and
manipulations. And yuk! Emotions.
Apart from that, be most kind to u brother and u sister too. Be kind to
the mother and the father. The eldest and the youngest daughters. Young bros
and elder bros too. Above all though, be kind to u Self. And play the Self’s
Real game. Don’t tend to anyone else’s illusions. Tend to u wucken own.
U won’t be disappointed,
because u will most definitely, never be the same again. U r hungry for IT! It
is more than just a whim now. That’s wucking obvious, despite the circle of
donkey’s around u. Jesus. Buddha, and all of the rest Zero! U r IN! Wuck a
duck! U r playing the only wucking game that’s worth playing when it comes to
the Earth life.
U’s is kid soul spirit Zero.
U’s is going home to that home which u never ever leave. That feels pretty
good. Some say that dying is a million times better than sexual orgasm. Now u
understand why. U’ve looped. U used to be a fry in a fryer. Now though, u r a
cosmic flower. In a hologram.
That is sensing thru the
spirit that it is time to bloom. Because every manifestation is always playing
the Real game. Always has been, and always will be. Some acids eat water. The
Light eats ItSelf. Some so called humans eat karma, when they transcend to the
I am the lot, I am nothing position. When u r in I am inner-outer mode, u do
indeed transcendentally love the enemy. The realisation that the enemy is in
the cosmic field of u extended body is totally and utterly overpowering.
The Light hosts lots and lots
of names and shapes, and u r all of them. It is a big responsibility Zero,
though u can handle it and It. Living together in the same house. U have done
nothing else thus far. Tutti frutti and ah cha cha. There’s no external
authority living that can do the job of u own Sadguru. The Matrix cracker lives
within. Yet, when the Matrix is done in, that which was the outside, the total
outside, is converted to the inside. It’s tricky dicky stuff, till u get uself
used to it. Then it’s normal.
That inside, in comparison to
what is currently postulated as the outside, is tiny. A dot. A pinhead of
nothingness in which trillions of universes could dwell. Space and time being
nothing, without the mind. With the mind, there r just phantoms everywhere. At
the 3D level. Some of them r really lit up. Like suns they r. Others r a bit
like candles, who r on the road to becoming like suns. This becoming then, is
of import. To honour it, follow u spirit. Adapt u intuition to u I am and grind
it all up in u heart. To conquer hate, realise u Self. As the lot. The all
right, all Light. The body is separate, sure.
All that proves though is that
the spirit’s holographic technology is super slick. The mind though is
simultaneously in the body and everywhere else too. It is supposed to be the
governor of the senses, yet in effect, it is another sense.
It is the one that the kid soul uses to try and get its feet on the
ground, whilst having the psychic span of a cosmos.
“Spirit Zero!,” comes this
unbelievable voice from out of the tennis ball of light. It sounds like God in
a good mood. He’s had lunch, and a little nap.
“Do u take Stevee here to be u
workmate until imaginary death claims u’s both?!”
“I wucken do!!!!!,” u’s
answers.
The ball then goes thru the
same stuff with Stevee, who hee haws a yes back. Despite that he’s still a bit
concerned about what constitutes an imaginary death. Death being a concept that
Stevee has in the past, had a bit of trouble with. It has spooked him more than
a few times.
“I now proclaim u spirit body
then. May grace lend u her fortunes in u coming adventures!,” the tennis ball
roars.
There’s a chorus of hee haws
from the circle, then they all trot off back to their stables. Some of them r
galloping. They all want to be locked up good and proper for when the next
spirit player comes. They come one at a time to make a selection. They want to
be there when it happens.
U r glad it’s all over. Now u
r legal tender. U’s throws u’s temporary chip away. Now u can get on with it. U
takes Stevee down to the showers and u’s gets a big, wooden handled brush. Then
u goes to work on his disgusting arse. U’s scrubs harder than u ever wucken
scrubbed in u life. U r dinkum now. U r gunna win this wucking game even if it
kills u. And Stevee. There’ll be none of that u r unworthy sinskin shit like u
got fed on Earth.
Sin binds, but u r unbound
now. U r affectionate detachment. U r also an alphabet killer. The Light has
knocked karma out in the 4th round. U r the one that the Company has graciously
pumped up to proceed full bore with the real holographic truth. U r Zero. U’ve
come to find u real Self. The rest being fully accepted now as just
artificially packaged, holographic illusion.
When Stevee informs u that u
arse scrubbing position is gunna be u getting up the hill position, u’s at
first consider a broadside. The calmer u though runs off investigation, an so u
do. U prime the donkey and get it out of its mouth that there’s bombers in them
thar hills. And that Stevee’s got the hooves to hang on, but u ain’t. U safest
position is where there’s a big tail that can be wrapped around u.
That’s what the donkey tells
u. U’s push for more data on the bomber classification. U’s gets told to wait
and see. Because u r gunna find out. The answer is unsatisfacory. U have
clarity though and u recognise the big balls of the power and attention game. U
give a bit of secret power to the donkey because no doubt, u will find out
about bombers. Soon enough. Whatever they r.
U do too. Pretty quickly.
About 3 hours later. U r slogging it out getting up this narrow trail. It’s as
steep as wuck. There’s big trees everywhere. Real big. The ground is
treacherously slippery sloppy. Not much sunlight is getting thru the roof
canopy, high up above. Deadly poisonous snakes keep slithering across the
trail, which is sloped like the side of a mountain on either side. Those
snakes, some of them have got faces that remind u of some politicians. And
dentists. That u’ve now left behind in the now defunct for u, Earth hologram.
U’s has a brief wonder that they couldn’t see that u cannot kill the
Self.
U’s has a flash of amazement
that they just kept on killing bits and pieces of their combined Self. Whilst
justifying it with cock and bull, word concepts. In their particular language,
or collection of symbolic noises. Greed, wrong and false ideas, wucked them
right up.
I am inner only, slaughtered
their souls in a mish mash of chaotic, violent, lunatical rubbish. Because
stuff that teaches u not to hate and to trust no outside authority, is good. To
be inner-outer is u only saving grace right now. Staying separate will only
kill u again.
So boring all of that shit.
Until the inner-outer view destroys the pay off the karmic debt and suffer,
perceptual illusion.
U r It, the Light, right now. This is the paradox that simultaneously
has u by the astral groin, as u burst inside with cosmic laughter. Only the
Sadguru, that inner Light, can u trust.
It’s got a voice that doesn’t
use words. It knows Itself to be never born, never died, unkillable and
timeless. It thrives on that. IT is the Player. It is the only Player. It is u
Zero. If u revert to Source.
The nearest word that u can
come to. To express how the STUFF is inside out to every name and shape, is
spirit. Less u just call it Light. It’s somewhere on the inside, when u take
the inside to be the whole lot. U gotta find It, because that’s the real game.
U have turned the mind into an instrument of discovery and it’s all happening
in the 4th or 5th dimension.
Or wherever the wuck u r, on
the road to cosmic consciousness. Self propelling it all is at the moment too.
U don’t mind. If the Void wishes to suck u into that tunnel that transports
bods to lighter fields, It can. U will not protest. U r completely open to any
possibility. U’s used to be just barely alive. With u Kilroy nose just above
the despair, sorrow and depression line. Now though u’s is really super living.
As a real, high wucken, holographic roller.
So u’s is right up Stevee’s
arse now. Now u know that he knew what the wuck he was talking about. The trail
being unjustifiably treacherous. If u w’s any further up him, he’d be giving
birth out of his anus. Not to worry. The sweat is pouring off u. It’s jungle
sweat and u’s hamstrings feel like steel wires that could snap at any second.
All of a sudden, u’s hear a cacaphony of noises from up ahead. It’s spooky.
Loud thuds and branches being smashed into, with cracks and bangs galore. U
hear.
Coming your way. Fast.
Then u’s picks up on all of
this screaming and yelling. It’s like a whole lot of hysterical pain is coming
out of something or someone. Somewhere up the razor’s edged track. The next
thing u know, Stevee has wrapped his big tail around u and secured the both of
u behind a monster tree.
The tree’s got this thick green moss all wrapped around it. Like God
just carpeted it. It’s very holographic. It’s also as slippery as wuck where u
r standing.
The bugger should have been a
mountain goat, goes across u mindscreen. Like flying words. What the hell he is
hanging onto and how he’s hanging on? U don’t know. U’ve done the Earth though,
so u don’t care about that anymore. His hooves may be ten inches into the mud,
with some sort of terror approaching. Deep down though, u super love him for
it. There is no hate in u for Stevee at the moment.
He’s the meat, and he is doing ok. From where u r standing Zero. He’s
not loafing. That’s for sure. He’s not wucking up either.
It’s a precious time. U r a
team and u can do nothing more than super admire how he can stick his hooves so
wucken deep into the mud. And keep his wucking balance, thus staying sort of
upright. On some semblance of a vertical plane. It’s amazing. All fear of
annihilation thus goes. Swallowed up by the realisation that what is coming is
made of Light too. Just like u and Stevee. All of a sudden, it all just becomes
fun.
U r laughing inside. Chuckling, because the show needed a bit of a
twist. The crashes and bangs r getting louder. The screaming from whatever’s
falling has reached a hysterical zenith. U can’t wait to see what the wuck is
coming.
It comes flying down the path
at u like something out of the Ghost Buster’s movie. U get a good look at it
though. And the donkey that is following it. U’s get splattered with lots of
blood. Because the 2 of them r banging into the big trees in their unstoppable,
avalanche slide down the hill. They r running with the bulls all right.
Cartwheeling, free falling and smashing their heads time and time again. Into
solid wood. They r literally covered in blood and after they’ve gone, so r u
and Stevee.
“So that’s a Bomber Zero!,”
Stevee says dryly to u.
“U got to watch out for them
up here, lessen they collide with u and avalanche u’s too.”
“That was Joe Stalin Stevee! I
recognised his mug shot as it flashed by,” u’s roars. “He took out wucken
millions!”
“Yeah! Good on him!,” Stevee
replies nonchalantly. Then he clears his throat and slags a big goozy left.
It’s pretty disgusting, but u both do it.
“ Shit happens. Come on! Let’s
get going! I’m not camping with rocks up m’crack tonight! I wanna wucking lay
down to sleep. There’s a spot not too far up and we can make it b4 dark. If we
hurry! There’s a bit of wucken green grass there too. U know what I mean Zero?!
Some of us can’t live on wucken snake burgers!”
“Yeah! Righto Stevee, righto!
Don’t get u wucken knickers in a knot! I’m comin’! I’m comin’!”
So u’s gets u holographic,
semi-physical arse back onto the trail. One hundred thousand years later, u r
still on it. U’ve got the right shits with camping out on a dimensional razor’s
edge too. U and Stevee r both pretty well exhausted and extremely touchy. U r
just about done in, completely shagged and absolutely rooted. To the brown mud
that is u seemingly endless, upward floor. U can’t see nothing but the deep,
dark forest. That u’ve seemingly been seeing forever.
Once or twice, or maybe lots
of times, u almost lost it having a crap. U’s almost bumslid down the hill.
Twice, or maybe lots of times, Stevee saved u shitty arse from backsliding down
the razor’s edge. Stevee having the advantage when it comes to crapping,
because he doesn’t need to squat. He just kind of blasts it over the edge, which u really admire. His record for
turd ejection stands at 66 metres. Some of his urinations seem to start off
little creeks.
Every now and again, u spot an
Indian. Usually looking out from behind a big tree, not too far away. They r
glowing with Light and their thumbs up arrows keep u going. Stevee doesn’t see
them though. His concentration is always fixed almost catatonically upon the
ground. He’s always looking where his hooves r going. He doesn’t have time to
look around, though he lives in time. U do though.
There has been that odd day
where bits of blue sky have been visible. U played a game with uself and
counted the saucers that went nipping on by, way up there. U got to know the
different types. U said hello in spirit to the good, the bad and the
indifferent. U stated u claim to play the Real game and left them to their
business.
Being their own Real game.
That’s the way it happened
with those holographics. The ally aliens r as usual, quite fun to deal with.
Whilst the control freaks r, as usual, quite boring. Energy sucker types. Young
or misguided souls dredging the bottom that is also the top. They r.
What is a concept Zero, but
letters highlighted on a mindfilm? Where truly, imagination prompted by desire
rules. U get what u want, when u give what u’ve got. Which is u lot. No matter
what value classification is judged upon u, by uself, and by others too. U got
locked up in the this and that separated, cock and bull rubbish nuthouse on
Earth. U’s did.
Now though, u r spirit on the
loose. The semi flesh is there, but u r everywhere simultaneously. In total
surrender to and agreement with the cosmic inner-outer harmony, u r. The
celestial is already on the ground. U just say I am Light and they and It know
that u want in right now. They’ve got u covered and u’ve got them covered too.
U can’t afford to think like a student anymore. U r Zero. U r the only living
one that can blow the wuck out of the Matrix that lives within u.
The conceptual mentality of
the world of words covered up the Real. With abstract, meaningless shit. U r
playing to blow all of that away. So that u can visit u spirit base Light. The
incomprehensible that is u unseen, Real, spirit Self.
U r the Goddess or the Master.
Take u pick from behind the donkey’s arse. U’ve picked a winning arse and u’ll
consider nothing else. Except I am Light, that’s all. That’s what u know and
that’s what u transcendentally love. This must be repeated and repeated. 24/7.
Until it is in the nuclei of all of u body cells. Only then can the forty days
and forty nights be truly beaten. Don’t get pissed off with a re run. That is
telling u the right stuff about uself, for a change.
Nevertheless though, u r earnestly keen and the day does unbelievably
cometh. When u emerge out of the mostly darkish forest of time and space.
U and Stevee strideth out,
puffing and panting, like a happily married couple. Who have just had it off. U
r that happy to be out of that wucking forest. Onto a wide and green plateau
u’s emerge, behind which r the real mountains. With their snow capped peaks. U
could be in a Lord of the Rings movie, but u knows full well that u r just on
the road to cosmic consciousness. Where all rings r inner-outer.
Stevee got u semi physical
arse up here but by Christ and Buddha. Did he ever do some wucken bellyaching
about the appalling conditions. How many times that he exploded and stated that
he shoulda stayed down the hill in his shitty digs. And partied with the
wucking fleas on his beloved old blanket. And occasionally, Mary. U just lost
count.
How many times that he wailed
for mother Mary and the other Mary, in the middle of the night. U can’t
remember. If u hadn’t been up his arse, practically licking it clean sometimes,
he wouldn’t have made it. Without u there with the psychological fortitude, I
am Light therapy stuff. To keep him pumped up on the truth trail, he might have
thrown himself off the edge. Of one of the shittiest and longest memory tracks
that u’ve ever seen. A spit in the bucket from the other side, but a right
proper current from the one that u and the donkey r on.
Every morning though, u just
got up and said I am Light. Of inner-outer proportions. Or something similar.
That kept u going, especially when u felt like jumping off the edge too. Which
was quite a lot of the time, actually.
It’s wonderful up here though.
The sun is out and is backdropped by a crystal clear, bright blue sky. Stevee
has wandered off in search of some good, green grass. There’s plenty about and
he hasn’t eaten so good in ages. He’s stuffing himself and moving ever so
slowly. His tail is up and he’s giving his big cold anus some rather warm
celestialness. Ha! Ha! Ha! Go the mirthy, whose brilliance when it comes to
intelligence gives them clear access. To the entirety of consciousness and
beyond.
To that mirthy cosmic inner that is everybody’s outer. And u beloved
Self to boot.
The I am can be an anus, a
vagina, a penis or a mouth. Or a thinking mechanism illusion, which can talk
some unbelievable JUNK. To the extent that it denies the Real as impossible fantasy,
adopts the unreal as true, and then shits itself about fearful stuff. Which is
the creation of imagination in the mind, fueled by the desires of kid souls
wucking with sense and sensual stuff. There’s nothing wrong with sex, if u r
into that energy. Dying is a million times better though, the Net says. And far
superior to piloting a flying saucer.
Because u’s finds out that
u’ve just been dreaming in loo loo land. The Earth wasn’t real, u’s just didn’t
get fooled again. U’s woke up, in the nick of time and turned it all around. It
was like stepping out of a movie, onto another set. Where u could practice
being on the road to cosmic consciousness. It gave u a place in space and time
where if u let the natural, transcendental love in u loose. And loved u inner
as u outer, and didn’t separate them.
Then the Company would provide
the universal mutations that would give u a clear shot, or 2, or 3 at the
Matrix. U r Light. It’s simple, not hard at all Zero. U’s donkey whispers to
uself. Every cell in the body is I am. The anus too. The brain, the heart, the
vagina and the penis. The hairs, viruses and bacteria that live on the skin.
The kidneys, the liver, and on and on and on. All talk I am. This or that.
REQUIRING this or that. Feed
me! Feed me! Feed me! Look after me! Give me u good vibrations to run on. If U
please. They talk to the physical body, who in turn is being talked to by the
mind. That is as restless as wuck. And struggling like wuck to balance out the
paradox between extended body realisation. Such as, I am universe, I am cosmos.
I AM NOTHING. With I am ego and I want it wucken all and I want it now.
U though, in source essence, r
outside the lot. Watching! Waiting! For that split moment when u can get a shot
off at the wucking Matrix. Which for so…so… so wucking long. Beguiled u with
false and illusory, tormenting sufferings. And sorrows. Because the good times,
great loves and incredible characters of the past, r wucking gone. Never, ever,
to come again. Supposedly.
And up ahead there is nothing
but SHIT! Or there used to be. It’s all around in the third dimension, and it’s
wucking closing in for a lot of souls. The big one, when it comes, it’s gunna
wucking get u. And u’ll be dead. That’s what they r thinking.
So will u cherished memories,
for sure. Plus every one that u wucked, in one way or another. And everyone who
in one way or another, wucked u. It’s pure Shakespeare really, is Kali Maya’s
Earth stage. U know it and u wucking went and done somethin’ about it. Wuck
memory, u said. I want the I am that doesn’t run off memory now.
I want the one that runs off spirit.
U’ve got enough experiences
and memories to snuff out the sun. Put ‘em with everyone else’s and u could
clog the universe up forever with green emotional slime. Wuck that! U want the
timeless I am body back in u cosmic life again now. It’s not that u deserve it
or that u have to earn it. It is just who u really r.
U r in the light that exposes
the beauty of the flower. There’s nothing wrong with desire, if it is the right
one. If the desire is for cosmic consciousness now! Then a lot of Matrixes, r
shortly going down. The Real Sisters and the Real brothers will meet in the
Light. It is written into the Game. On many a heart is inscribed, Destined To
Ascend To Cosmic Consciousness. Which is as it should be.
U accommodate to the pace of
the donkey mind and slow right down too. He’s u access ticket and u don’t want
to upset the wucker. Not after such a long and shitty haul. He can stuff his
guts as far as u r concerned.
Pretty soon u come to this
mound of a smooth rock. It’s kind of like a bosom sunk into the ground. Aliens
might have put it there. They sure knew what they were doing. It is where it
belongs. The consciousness in the rock will fulfil its destiny in the divine
story. It always does. U’s sits on top of it. The sun is gorgeously warm and
u’s holds u face up to it.
A blazing hot sun is wucking
hard to take. It’s enough to make u want to get the wuck off the wucking Earth.
Where Satan’s fire seems truly to be behind the climate. Outside and inside too
many too.
A gorgeously warm sun after a long freeze though is a formidable ally.
It gently pinks u out when u r white, and it makes u shine gently when u r
black. Or the other colours. Them’s the breaks when u’s is shapeshifting so
wucken much. Definitely do u note that u mutational changes seem to be on the
increase.
There is no glare though, and
the same thing happens when u r the other colours. Red, brown, yellow or
whatever. It is pure aura that comes off u. There is no sodding distortion,
none at all. B4 the Light, all r equal. All r the same. All r One. There is One
behind all of this and u’ve got to superdrive it home that that One is u Zero!
With u ego head chopped off. By the axe spirit.
How to do that without
postulating or anticipating any result or personal benefit whatsoever, presents
an awesome challenge. Truly though, u r Zero and u will conquer every last
little drop of hate that is in u. After all, hate is just a word. 4 wucken letters.
It should be easy to take them
out. I am Light kills anything and everything, antibiotic like. I am therapy
was u cosmic yoghurt. U used to love and hate the Earth world, but now u know
that it was as the Guru said. It was a Child of luuuuuvvvvvvve. Because it gave
u a first class wucken ticket into the realm of the Real game. Which is pure
fun and nectar from the celestial greats to a spirit, who for a moment in space
and time there, thought that they were wucken gone.
For all money, so to speak.
Nothing like getting u arse off the razor’s edge, for a so called human. Let
go. Step out. Watch. Witness. Never judge. Go beyond. Be it a word or anything
else, go beyond it. It is that wucking simple. U just reprogramme u wucken
self.
All ignorance of the real
truth of the matter, must die. Absolutely. To not meet head on. To go around
the flanks and meet courteously in the identity of the circle. Is the secret of
non violence. Walk away if u cannot form a circle with another being, or
beings. The circle has the power.
The straight line dies a
lonely death. No one really wishes to travel its transient line. That
disappears either end, back into the circle. The straight line is soldier on.
The circle is freewheeling. Every soul in eternity aspires to be freewheeling.
Souls use the soldier on dimensional line. To get to the freewheeling levels of
the circle. U can't really cut a dimensionaless dot in half. U can only imagine
it. Via dreaming states or levels.
Accept that u r dreaming. Then
u don't have to worry about trying to wucken control anything, to influence a
positive result. The wucken whole thing just flows into a big wormhole of Light
anyway. U, in effect, don’t have to do a wucken thing. Except to kill the word
mountain Matrix. Wuck!
The ultimate spiritual victory
is programmed in u already. Another paradox. A pearler, actually. U r never not
u Real Self and the holographics of 3rd dimensional dreaming r just
simply. Absolutely mind boggling. To the mind that is. To the spirit they r
just wuck around poo.
There r clouds about too.
They’re r talking as well. Only in there langauage, which u r not bothered
about understanding. Big wool pack things. That r drifting like motherships
across the amiably blue sky, they r. Laziest wucken buggers that u’ve ever
seen. Like they wouldn’t even stop gently drifting, not even to buy the winning
ticket in a rigged lotto draw.
It’s wucking beautiful the way that they r just drifting on by. Without
being emotionally or mentally bound up in any thing. They r something that will
soon become nothing again. They r eternally happy with their most beautiful
transcience. Not at all r they bothered by it.
There’s what looks like a spot
of rain in their light grey bottoms. It’s picture painted and u r in the
picture. As every geometric dot of it. Because u r truly rooly, inner-outer. To
the cosmic core. A transcendental Light body that has stepped down something
chronic in vibration. In order to take on the appearance of singular form.
That’s hot stuff in anybody’s language and u r It, just like every other player
is It. Tutti frutti, ah cha cha.
It’s game on, where u r
concerned. Play the game that the I am is made of Light, is all u’ll follow
now. U’s fondles u pearls lovingly for a bit, then decides to unbuckle them. To
get the weight off. U does so and puts the holster on the rock beside u. U’s
feels naked with them off. The pearl handles r absolutely beaming in the
special sunlight. Where u r, it’s alpine all right.
U can smell the super cool
snow way up there on those celestial peaks. It smells like fairy floss used to
smell to u when u was a kid. Back on the shithole Earth. It’s Royal Show day
now, where u r. Everyday.
U’s decides to strip off and have some naked bum contact with the
delightfully warmish, mother nature rock. U does so, and in the process of
getting undressed, u change sex again.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!,”
Stevee guffaws as u’s bares u breasts to the wind.
“Right on Zero! Poetry mate!
Wucking poetry! Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw! Love those titties! Yee ha!”
U’s laughs away at Stevee. Who
can often be quiet a riot, when excited. The wucker can be like a kid. With too
much wucking adrenalin going thru their wucken veins. Creating too much
pressure on their brains. Which distorts the usually always, restless mind,
even more. Urges to create and destroy simultaneously can come out with any
sort of abandon. They befuddle the best and the worst of the humans.
They clean up those who r inbetween as well.
Every one would like to skip
evolution to miss out on the horror.
No one wants to let go of what’s beautiful in their lives though. The little bits of mortal or spiritual
love that they find, amidst the sea of horror, pain and suffering. That is
their world.
That is all they’ve really got.
Go for the throat. Which is to
treat the mind as a sense by identifying u Real body to be outside of u. As
matter appearance. As far out as u can wucking get. Until u can turn the wucker
mind inside out, with I am transcendental Light. That has stepped down, stepped
down, God knows how many times?
U r never not the Supreme
Being playing as the Lot. That’s just the illusion that u designed so that u
could wake up from the grand paradox. Then blow the wucking wuck out of,
probably, possibly, another wucking Matrix. Who cares. It’s a possible re run
that u’ll take, if it’s being offered. Which apparently, it is. Every
millisecond of u existence too.
It’s a wucker of a paradox. U
and Stevee r both having fun with it. It’s warm and u r thawing out u
vibrations considerably. Loosening right up. What the wuck have u got to
wucking worry about when u r unkillable spirit? Absolutely nothing at all. That
is correct. What’s coming in from right out, is starting to flow right on right
back out, naturally. The universe bounce off is ironing out. U give, u get. U
no give. U no get.
That’s the set up. When it comes to I am inner-outer.
This is u now Zero and u agree
most wholeheartedly with all of IT. U’ll give playing as the wucken LOT a go.
U’ve got nothing to lose by busting out of shit stupid thinking about who u
really r. And who u really represent and work for. Just because some wucking
current dreamt up an alphabet. That the rest of the tribe went rah! Rah! Rah!
Too. Well wuck that! It’s just so much better being a cc player.
It beats the shit out of
thinking that u r just a piece of suffering flesh, language enslaved shit. U’d
much rather be who u really r. A Company agent. A cosmic gun toting spirit.
A Real player in busting the
shit out of the ego Matrix business. So that the natural Light can spread.
Shit! U r Zero and u’ll shit it in. Thus far, u have been doing nothing else.
It’s Real Game on because for once in u wucken life, u r telling uself the
wucking holographic truth. And u wucken ain’t denying any wucken thing.
U r not fighting. U r not
resisting. U r just letting all of those this and that word concoctions flow
thru u. Back into outer space. So u can get it on for real, and cease wucking
around. With I am created by God, I am being tempted by Devil shit. That
endless wucking argument is so wucking boring. Be neither, if u really want to
live.
Sometimes u got a halo,
sometimes u got horns. It’s as simple as that upon Earth. Everybody’s the same.
They get skid marks and they’ve got the same split, mortal psychology. Ooohhhh!
I like this! Awww! I wucken hate that! So wise up pronto. I am neither God nor
Devil. I am beyond both, is much better than dualistic, psycho babble
quicksand. In truth, u r both and neither.
It is super wucking hot and u
kid soul adores playing with such an emphatic statement. If the cosmos and the
universe want to beam in that u r a gloriously beautiful Light being agent for
the Light Company. Well wucking gollleeeeee! That’s wucken fine by u. There’s
no sense in spending any more space, time and energy denying it. U r in far,
far, far, far, too wucken deep now.
U thought that u was in some
computer’s mind.
Now u’s realise that u just went to sleep at the cosmic computer and
that the game got out of wucken hand. Hohhhhh! U’s can sniff that u astral
fingers r charging up to click the cosmic mouse again. So that the Real picture of the real
programme, comes back onto the wucken mindscreen.
As the screensaver life disintergrates.
“Wha’d’ya reckon of that trail
mate?!,” u’s asks Stevee from a cricket pitch or 2 away. U’s knows that the
wucker is coming closer to the rock now to get a better look at u’s tits.
“Current of a wucking trail!
Wucker of a wucking incline!,” he hee haws voluminously back at u.
In the space of those 10
words, u change back to the opposite sex. Quickly Stevee pricks up his ears and
trotty totts off. Pretending to have spotted a good clump of green.
A couple of his steps r a bit
trotty trotty campish. Well, more than a couple actually. A few others r
bisexual. Look it has to be admitted that there r some transexual ones as well.
The rest r set in a jelly of heterosexuality. Christ! Buddha and Allah! Shiva
and all of the rest too. U couldn’t tell Steveee all of this. Not yet.
He’d have a wucken fit of
denial fear. U’ll have to break him into the explosiveness of living outside of
appearance, casually. When u deal with the mind, u must deal with the whole
board. U play with every dot on the board, to find the one that u r sourcing
from. This requires that the mind turn itself inside out and explode. As the
endless Light of the eternal infinity is drawn into the super awake appearance.
In a split second.
“I wish that u wouldn’t
wucking do that Zero!,” the beasty bugger Stevee roars back at u. “It spins me out! I’ve got enough problems with
the who am I without getting into that wucking shapeshifting side of it.”
“Well I can’t wucking help it
Stevee!,” u roars back at him.
“One day it might happen to
u!”
“Bullshit!,” Stevee hee haws,
3 times.
“I’ve never had disability in
controlling sexual gender in my entire existence. I’m not going to wucken start
now!”
“What’s to control Stevee?!
Stuff just happens. Let the wucking universe take care of it. Stop wucking
worrying! This is the 21st century Stevee! Adapt! These r
accelerated times.”
“Oh wuck off Zero! It was
still 50/50 getting up that wucking current of a hill, u know?!”
“I know Stevee. U were great!”
“So were u Zero! But lets have
no talk about me losing my holographic balls. Ok?! It gives me nerves.”
“As u wish Master Stevee!”
“Master! Ha ha! Cut it out
Zero! I am just a…..”
“A whot Stevee?”
“I am just a mind, with all of
its limitations Zero. Come on! Don’t play games with me. It is written that I
can only go so far and then poof! I am no more. I am all gone. No more. All
dead. Finished. Kaput! Spirits live on, minds die. That’s how it goes.”
U catch the tearful expression
on u big ally’s face, and u can not help uself. Not with your set of awareness.
U’s explodes into raucous laughter. Pretty soon u’s is on u back on the rock
some more. Bike riding u laughter. Writhing around and holding on to u
excrutiatingly painful guts. It’s like u r in hospital and u r laughing too
soon after the doc opened u belly up. To remove all unnecessary emotions.
Then, like a Willow The Wisp,
or a Jumping Jack Flash, u r off the rock. U r standing beside the donkey. U r
the super coach and u spiritual palm is over u heart. U’s is donkey whispering
into that big funnel of an ear again.
“Stevee!,” u says. Softly
softly like.
“U r unkillable! U r timeless!
Never born and never died. If I am Light, then so r u. We’re a team mate.
Together, we will strideth forth into level 2!”
Stevee’s head goes back. He sees
obstacles every which way that he looks. U see trees, flowers, the rest of the
land and the sky. He puts it to u that the burning bushes aren’t likely to be
too disposed to the grand plans of scheming little wuckers. U’s pumps him up
again and reinforce that if those wuckers won’t let him go, then u won’t go
either. U’s’ll go on strike. Like everyone else is these wucking days. U’ll
just go into the log cabin business and wait it out until they see things your
way. That’s what u tell the donkey.
For thirty more days, across a
wide open plain and up another current of a trail. U repeat u message to
Stevee. Over and over again, u drag him back to the dead basic, I am made of
Light. He hee haws, guffaws and doubts; but u’s keeps hitting him with it. If u
truly want in on level 2, u’s tells the whinger, then u have to play the Real
game. Not the poor me, I am the inner victim one. U gotta wuck that off! That’s
u message.
Stop bellyaching about
imagined illusions and kowtow to the cosmic I am truth. U’s instructs. Bit by
bit u break down Stevee’s ego defences, until he’s quite warm to the prospects
of freewheeling around the cosmos. It’s just as well because the day comes when
u’s 2 walk around a bend straight into two big, burning bushes. The wuckers r 20
metres tall and the heat is super intense. No doubt about the burning bushes.
They r flaming wucken hot. They r not. 2 cocks in frocks on a rock.
U’s puts u plan to them. They
don’t bite, not straight away. They harp on about having to make considerable
changes to the holographic programming. They question u as to why u want to
take the wucken donkey along. U's gives a grand speech that u donkey is u
special mate and that the wucker has put in. And fully deserves a go at
improving his lot.
The big bushes state that
there have been times when u’ve hated each other’s guts. Back there along the
current of a trail. They tell u that they heard u and that they hear
everything. And instantaneously record it. Then store it in the grand cosmic
library.
They give u a playback of a
pretty venemous slanging match between the 2 of u’s. Where many times u
heatedly called each other wucking currents. U and Stevee make snake eyes at
each other. Like the gangsters have got u cornered. It’s not to be though as u
launch into some convincing words about mastering shit. And wucking with
limitation. So that which is ever present that is not limitation, can be found.
U’s proposes that deep down, underneath the surface of mundane toil and
endless vicissitudes, that u and Stevee r a love match from heaven. A
partnership of infinite proportions.
It’s quite a decent case that
comes out of u gob. Stevee’s eyes r bulging with admiration. It’s like, he’s
yours forever now. He ain’t never had anybody stick up for him or his rights
like u r. He’s fascinated to the max. U indeed, r a friend. He’s got a whiff of
getting the wuck out of level 1. Which seems to be very much, a snakes and
ladders sort of a game. That’s dead re run boring.
Especially after a 100,000 years or so of it.
When the textbook Guru
attained cosmic consciousness in 3 years. Using the I am path. Handed down to
him by his Guru, who passed on the tradition of his holy gang of Navnaths. The
100,000 years is a bit of a joke. How much longer will Zero take then?
Not much wucking longer, the spirit of the book says. Not the way
things r wucken going.
That’s a bit of good news, ay
Zero?! The promise of super fun is pretty damn intoxicating. U r the wucking
Light. Don’t look or futiley seek access to It. Do away with the fantasy that u
r not made of Light. That u r already It. This is the way. To go beyond God.
This is what u’s has been after since they hauled u out of u soul pod. And
said, here’s another wucken spark! Pop them out of a pussy. Let’s see if she-he
can 3D bark. And go wolf! Wolf!
The bushes seem concerned by
the eloquence of u talk too. U’ve painted Stevee as the noble savage, a species
to which they r kindly dispossessed. They join up to have a pow wow and u and
Stevee take some steps back. The increase in the intensity of the heat being
rather tremendous. U’s puts u arm around u good mate’s neck. Stevee gives u an
affectionate nudge in the side. He rubs u up and down with appreciation.
U’s stuck right up for him.
U’s didn’t put him down with criticisms of incompetence. Or accusations of
insanity. All of the time u spoke, u kept on calling him u mate. He loves u. U
love him. U’s pats his big, thick neck. He rubs u’s a bit more. This goes on
for some time. It’s the waiting game. As wucking usual. U’s taps u right foot.
Stevee taps a back hoof. Tap! Tap! Tap!
They go in unison.
Come on u wucking fired up
currents! Don’t take all wucking day. We’ve just done a 100,000 year slog on
the trail. Let us in! For wuck’s sake! Have a heart. Come on! Come on! Come on!
U see roll across u mindscreen.
U don’t speak. U enjoy the
silence. U both know that it’s judgement day and that the jury of 2 is out.
Eventually though, they part. U both step forward again. U’ve chosen humble
postures. U have u hands clasped together at the front. Stevee has his tail
right down and his head slightly dipped. His expression says it all.
It says for wuck’s sake! Throw
me in the wucken briar bushes! Do anything to me. Just don’t send me back to
that wucken shithole way back down the hill! Please!!!! Have mercy u wucking
fired up wucking currents?!
As a last resort, he gets down
on his front knees and bows. Unfortunately though he squashes his stomach. So
that automatically his tail lifts, and a big fart explodes out of arse.
U smile with considerable astral width and place a palm over u heart.
Look, if u have to be nice and sweet to get the donkey in, u’ll do it. No
worries! U live to be humble in u Matrix hunting. If there is spiritual
authority there, u will respect it. U don’t though face them with the same
attitude which u faced mortal authority with. Which was that mortal power was
pecking order, dreaming rubbish. Worthless. In the Real game. U cannot lie or
bully in the face of the real truth. It just does not work.
U r not here to kill other so
called humans. U r here to kill the Matrix. That has u living this fake
illusion that u r separate from them. As name and shape u r, for sure. As
spirit though, u r not.
Well, seems like they hear the
donk’s pleas as they announce the go ahead. U remain calm, but Stevee starts
bellowing his elated head off. He’s so wucken excited. His hee haws thunder
around the place and u struggle to calm him down. He’s like a kid let loose in
the chocolate and candy section of the supermarket. When he does eventually
quieten, the bushes inform u of the conditions which go with the approval of u
request. U ears go up an inch and so do Stevee’s. Unfold towards the sky. Like
those long thin sausage balloons do. When u’s gas ‘em up. With u’s unseen insides.
U both get told that instead
of finding the gear and the ammo to blow the wuck out of the Matrix with. Right
near the Matrix, called Word Volcano Mountain. The WVM. Stevee will now have to
lug it from straight after the initiation of the level 2 phase. Further
modifications will be announced as u go along and u have to agree to
instantaneously follow them. A contract is produced and u sign on the dotted
line.
Stevee sticks a hoof into a
well of cosmic ink provided. He makes his mark right next door to your
signature. Then he nibbles at and tickles u face playfully. Till u’s have to
push the big brute’s head away. It’s all very exciting. U must admit though to
wondering what the wucking wuck u have let uself in for.
One look at the Stevee and u
know that he feels the same. Like he just signed up for an anything goes trip
as a beast of burden. With u as the provider of cosmic nourishment. U’s looks
at him again and u face says it all. It says, Stevee! U wucken asked for it,
and now u’ve wucken got it! U r a wanker! But do I transcendentally love u? Yes
I do. Always, u will be my beloved Stevee donk.
Stevee just grins at u like a playful big kid.
He don’t know what to say.
He’s a body mind machine without a word, a rare wucken commodity indeed. When
the vocal chords r working properly.
He’s too stoked. He’s into
level 2! After an eternity of going up and down currents of wucking hills. He
just can’t wucken believe his incredible, good fortune. At last, he’s wucken
in! He’s wucken hacked IT! Well, to him he has. U know different. He’s holding
onto every bit of energy that he’s got. The last thing that he wants to do, is
to start pissing urine excitement in front of the burning bushes. U’s can’t
have a leak in front of the sacred ancestors. Wuck no!
“Hear ye! Hear ye!,” go the
bushes together. The combination of their voices is awesome. It sounds like
grace would sound. Pretty cool that is. Is it male or female? U just can’t
tell. It’s a bit of both and it is neither. It’s wucken real though.
“Permission for spirit Zero
and mind donkey Stevee to both proceed to level 2 of the On The Road To Cosmic
Consciousness Game is granted! With transcendental love too! From us and Kali
Maya and all of the rest of the Light Company gang too. Although there will be
variations in the game, the goal will stay as is. U MUST! Find the one whom u
MUST save, and then u MUST blow the wucking wuck out of the wucking WVM Matrix!
U have eternity to do that. Do u understand spirit Zero? Do u understand mind
donkey Stevee?”
“We do! Oh great big burning,
firey wucking bushes! We do!,” u and Stevee explode together.
All of u trepidations r gone
now. U’s is just busting to get out onto the pitch. To start u warm up
exercises. U also know that Stevee’s holding back on the biggest piss of his
life, and u wouldn’t mind one uself.
“PASS U’S WUCKERS!!!!” Roars
the graceful grace sound that’s coming from out of the fire of the burning
bushes.
So u’s does. Pass them, that
is. Sideways, in a wide arc. As soon as u can, u’s both relieves u self.
There’s a heap of splashing on the ground and some ants get a free ride
downtown. Christ knows how they saw it all, but it was awesome sky stuff. Not
that they wanted it, but they got it. Just like u and Stevee got a shot at heaven.
Being the cosmic consciousness level.
Not far up the track, u’s come
across the signposted start button to level 2. U’s trusty maybe donkey, steps
on it with a mighty hoof. A schoolbell sounds. One of the old ones that goes
ding dong. There is no electronic buzzer. That must come from within, as u
cartwheel to the false illusion that was u prior appraisal of u life. What u r
now though, is inside out and loving it all.
It is all life and somehow, it’s all u.
This is a mystery that does
not darken u. Because something is telling u loud and clear that it really is
Light up time. And that is just wucking fine by u. That’s dandy, that is.
Because u r sick to death of the dark shit. It’s super boring re running it on
and on and on.
Wuck! It’s a horrible way to
wucking live. Same old shit! Over and over again. Just like Alarius, that cat
from the 10th dimension. Who spoke one day back at cosmic boot camp
said. U r deadset, the truth. For Real. A beautiful being of Light. A mystical
motherwucker. Or Kali Maya wucker. If u like. Negative re runs r really not
your cup of tea.
It would be so nice to wuck them all off. Wouldn’t it Private?
U used to think that u were
just a haywire wucking current! A short circuit. Didn’t u Zero?! Well, u sure
got that wucking wrong, didn’t u?! Now it turns out that u r state of the art
wucking cosmic material. That’s on the wucken loose, in a heavenly sent game.
And have u apologised yet to u
kid soul for crying vengeance on It? Or for u non stop bellyaching? When It was
delivering to u only what was the best stuff for u, at the time. As wucken
horribly hellish and terrifically terrifying as it was. It shocked u into clean
up u own wucken shit action. Didn’t it Zero?!
Because cosmic consciousness
is an anti despair virus. Yet, u have to go thru the despair, to get to the
virus. It’s weird, because it’s so wucken paradoxical. Like all word junk. When
u go so low, and do that long, dirty dark night of the soul. Is when u cry the
loudest to be so high again. Back in more familiar territory. At u lowest, u
spirit can work wonders. Miracles happen. Bullshit perceptual reality sets
melt. U get a message that u’ve got a Friend all right.
It doesn’t want u on u knees gushing with save me words. It wants u to
play the Real wucking game. Like It is doing, 24 wucken 7.
U’d like to jack the 3D lot of
it and start again. Somewhere nice. The cosmic consciousness spot sounds like
an interesting place to begin. U’ll give it a go. There is no turning back now.
U’ve lost u 3rd dimensional head and u couldn’t put it back on. Not
even if u wanted to. Some voice said to kill the alphabet. Another one
answered.
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! I can wucken do dat!
Whatever is in there, on that
wucking mindscreen, u just watch it. Till u truly get what u want. Till u get
that I am so right that it is just pumping u up every second. With u own Light.
Then u just say, without words. With a heart that has cosmically exploded way,
way beyond the realms of the mind. U just say. I’ll have some wucken more of that
Light please!!!! Because It is mine!!!!! All Mine!!!!! All their’s too! And I
don’t need any other wucken current to get to It!!! I just have to grow up.
That’s all. I got lost. Now I am gunna get found! Tutti wucking frutti! Ah cha
cha!
No need even to say please, because the request is being made to u
Self. So naturally, u will say yes. Of course.
Every mind is a kid soul
spirit bomb. Every universe is a step closer to cosmic consciousness. Where the
Light is unbelievably intensely warmish. So that u absolutely wucking thrive on
it. U don’t get burnt by it, like happens on the Earth. It is in that awareness
that u will find the true CHAMPIONS of Earth.
The Real silent achievers.
They r the prime movers when
it comes to expanding back out into consciousness awareness. Gunless, they fire
super deadly bullets. One bullet from them, can destroy u world forever. These
ones who have come b4 u. They r something else. These ones who cut a glorious
trail thru consciousness for u. So that u saw the human illusion for what it
really was. The ones that told u that in u pain, was the final answer. That u
have to accept, not deny.
That u r in a kid soul’s
holographically planned game. Therefore there is absolutely nothing in eternity
to worry about. U r spirit. Nothing can touch u. U soul, u Light body, can
never be annihilated or destroyed. U have a deathless infinity to wucken wuck
around in. To discover stuff about uself, uselves, and uSelf. U r neither good
nor bad. Worthy or unworthy. U just r. A player. In essence, u have not one
worry in the cosmos. Turn the game over to u everlovin’ kid soul spirit, and
u’ll wucken find out all about that.
They r hot wucking shit that
cc gang. R they wucken ever. Wuck! They’ve gave rock solid advice. Be
inner-outer Light. That’s what u really r. Wuck! It doesn’t come much better
than that.
It will be so wucken good to catch up with them again. Won’t it Zero?!
They know how to live that crowd. They don’t wuck around suffering. From 24/7
alphabetic attack. That’s for wucken sure.
Now u r in another gang
though. U r a rookie and the coach just screamed out to get u wucken arse out
there. And score a cc goal for the cosmic team. The next thing that u know is
that the ding dong bell stops ringing. Class has started. U and Stevee both
have u arses sucked clean into some sort of time tunnel, somehow. It’s very
mysterious. A vortex appeared out of mid air and just gobbled u’s up with a
ferocious sucker wind. Arse first.
All that u saw was a flash of
it when the button was hit. The two of u r now freefalling bum ways, quite
amazingly fast, down this funnel of a chute. It’s deadly notorious what u r
doing. It’s almost Leunig. Back on the Earth, the state ’d put u behind bars
forever. If they caught u’s at it.
Stevee wings on by u and his
face is rather acutely stretched.
“Zero!!!!!,” he warbles, with
his ears up like they r on tight strings. Whilst the rest of him is mooning it.
“I dunno ‘bout this!”
“I told u Stevee!!!!!,” u’s
scream, as a wucking awesome wind thunders past u flapped up earlobes. And
around u cleverly clothed, multidimensional crack.
“U wanted level 2 and u got
it! Now don’t bellyache!”
“No one told me that the other
side was going to be like this Zero!!!!”
“Nobody wucken told me either
Stevee!! Wha’d’y’ want me to do about it?! Dial 000, or something?! C’mon!
Let’s see if we can at least get our arses around the other way. I want to see
what’s comin’. Not what’s wucken going.”
“I’m wucken with u there
Zero!,” hee haws u companion in deep space.
Somehow, more thru will than
might, u’s both rights uself. As u’s do, the speed of u travel increases ten
fold. It’s like u’ve been shot out of a gun, twice. Looking sideways, it seems
as though u r skimming across the vertical incline of a great, deep, dark and
mysterious ocean. It’s like someone’s done a Moses and parted the universe, and
u fell in. It’s not that it is all black around u, but it’s not all white
either. It is just darker than u r used to.
There is though, not the
slightest hint of plastic about it. It’s as real an experience to u as the 7th
girlfriend or boyfriend, or bad time or good time, ever was. Then, suddenly,
without cerebral warning, it kind of loops. U most accelerated trajectory
bottoms out and goes into a wide arc. That sure feels like it’s heading into a
circle.
“We’re looping Zero!!!,”
Stevee hee haws to u, somewhat excitedly.
“I know mate! Enjoy!,” u yell
back.
“Pull the other one Zero! I
feel like I left m’balls back at the stables!”
“I reckon that we must be just
about doing the speed of light now mate!,” u’s fires off, somewhat excitedly.
“Yeah! D’y’really think so
Zero?!”
“Sure Steveee! Sure!”
“Well I’ll be wucked! I’ve
been where no other donkey has even been b4 then Zero.”
“Yeah Stevee! U’s is a wucking
21st century hero!”
“Oh pull the other one Zero! I
fluked it! As usual. Those burning bushes were a couple of pussies! They agreed
so easily to our plan. I just can’t believe that it was that easy to get into
level 2. I mean wuck! All that we did was wucken ask.”
“U get what u want when u r
made of transcendental Light Stevee! U may as well get used to it.”
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!”
“U don’t have to believe it
Stevee, u just have to live it. Go inner-outer, remain aloof, as if dead.
Position uself outside of the body where the cosmos and beyond is u eternal
benefactor. And protector. Simply put, u Self playing as the lot. And then just
be! Without worrying about the portrayal of any projected image. So that the
cosmos can do its business.”
“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah Zero! I am!
I know. I like it Zero. I may hate it all sometimes, but underneath I love it.
I love expression. It suits me.”
“That’s right Stevee! That’s
right. That’s the way that u do it. Get used to that reality where money is
nothing and u get u cosmic kicks for free. U must be extreme to reach the Real.
U’ve got to kill every wucking thing. Including clinging to the I am the body
idea.”
“I am Zero! I wucken am! I
love the universe! I love the universe!”
“Onya Stevee! I wucken knew
that u could do it, that u could pick it up. That’s why I picked u’s out from
that motley crew a ways back there.”
“I am glad to be out of those
horribly depressing stables Zero!”
“I know u r Stevie! U earnest
desire to give the wucken fingers up to everything that u’ve ever known. That’s
what got u out.”
At the end of the loop, u’s
start flatlining. Thankfully, still belly down. Now the ocean is underneath u’s
and u’s is skimming across it. So fast and so close that u can dip a hand in
and it won’t wet u. It’s weird, as usual. It sure doesn’t compute with Earth
physics. What’s above u is crushing u in, though it offers the ultimate freedom
simultaneously.
“We’re flatlining Zero!,”
Stevee hee haws. It’s obvious that he really is being stimulated by the
proceedings. He’s let go of fear and he’s enjoying the ride.
“I know Stevee!,” u’s
flatlines back.
All of a sudden, it’s a
Wallaby Bob, spinifex and McMaster’s job. It’s like u’ve both been ejected from
another gun, or shot out of a vagina. Or both. U r aware that u have come out
of semi darkness into light and that u
r tumbling. Over what is most certainly, hard ground. Because u r stirring up
dust, which is going up u nostrils. No dust, no hard ground.
This u know from u many dimensional experiences. Such stuff forms
groove after groove in u memory banks. As instincts which u wish to overide
with bulk intuition. So that u can go ah cha cha, all of the time.
U r aware that Stevee is
tumbling too. In fact, the few glimpses that u get of him r where he is sliding
on his back. With all 4 hooves in the air. Screaming stop! Stop! Stop! Whooaaaa
donkey! Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!
Once or twice, he cartwheels.
It’s embarrassing, but u’s both eventually end up on u legs. Albeit, with the
odd scratch and bruise. Stevee lets off another load of hee haws to voice his
disapproval at the shitty landing on the terribly dusty runway. U’s tells him
to cool down and to be inner-outer, again. He’s not impressed. U’s dust uself
off and then u slap his hide around some. Whack! Whack! Whack! U’s belts shit
out of the bastard with some mighty hands on stuff. Clouds of bits and pieces of basic terrestrial junk rise up off
him and float around. To disappear back into space. It’s a chemistry parade.
“Wuck Stevee!,” u’s tells him.
“Shoulda brought a wucking
cosmic vacuum cleaner!”
“Yeah! And the cosmic Salvos
as well. Zero!!!! Cut it out will ya?! Check this wucking place out!?”
It’s with such urging that u
for the first time stop and have a good look around. It’s like there was a
dusty runway in the middle of a paradise, and u and Stevee landed on it. What
hits u front up is the impact of being in some sort of wonderful flower garden.
Backgrounded by a green carpeted ground and a green, small tree forest.
There’s plenty of open blue
sky above. Though u would not be surprised if the Madhatter’s Tea Party was
just around the corner. The colours here r like nothing that u have ever see.
They r so richly vibrant, so deeply brilliant. They seem to shine and their very
existence is a call for further investigation. U and Stevee start snooping
around. He goes one way, u go the other. In hardly anytime, he’s calling out to
u.
“Zero!…Zero! Sign! Sign!
Everywhere a sign! I found it! It’s wucken over here!”
“Righto Steveeeeee!,” u’s
roars as u bolts in his direction.
When u’s get there, he’s standing underneath it. His tail is up so high
that it is tickling God’s bum.
“What’s it say Zero! Ay?! Does
it say,
AMMO DUMP
THIS WAY?!
Does it Zero?! Ay?! Did I find it, or what?! Am I a pretty good sniffer
outer, or whot?! Call it Zero! Call it!”
U’s looks at u partner who
cannot yet read the language here. It being of too high a vibration. Entire 3rd
dimensional languages r contained in single symbols in these more rarified
pastures. The poor, dumb bastard thinks that he’s still a poor dumb bastard.
That’s his imaginary problem. He’s not yet fully aware that he is the
transmutating Light.
Although he is most keen to
make ammends for prior non compliances. Which u do transcendentally love him
for. Very much too. Frankly, u don’t know how to tell him about the wucken
sign. Because it’s a dud.
Though at this level, u r
honour bound to tell only the truth. One dark lie and u r out of the Game. U
can’t risk that and why wucken should u? U have got to tell this donkey mind
the truth sooner or later. U don’t want to hurt the wucker or stir its apparent
restlessness up even more. U just want it purged of all stupid ignorance.
Regarding the true nature of u
real mission in life. U want it coming back to I am made of Light, like it
toilets. Spontaneously, whenever u infinitely eternal urge to find u cosmic
freedom is there. Exposed and out in the glorious open. U don't want it to keep
attaching itself to and identifying with holographic names and shapes. Or any
sort of derogatory, self administered, accusations. U want it free, unbound and
gloriously relaxed.
Super content and super happy
with what it has going for it in the exact moment. That way u’ll be able to get
a good shot, or some good shots off at the limiting Matrix. Which has buggered
u for so long. By confining u to that washing machine that agitates between the
past and the future. Where u cannot live for Real.
With this new, investigating
the I am mechanism way, u’ll just naturally revert to being the Lot that u
really r. Which is not game over. Rather, it’s the Real game begun. Wonderful,
never ending discovery after discovery regarding u wonderful, wonderful Self.
And many, many little selfs,
will be u lot. U’ll be beaming transcendental Light to every wucking wucker.
For ever wucking more. That’ll be wucking ever so nice! Kali Maya will be very
happy with that. That’s Her game. She just wants everybody to be happy. In the
Light.
It takes too much of the wrong
sort of energy, hating. Or loving then hating. Then maybe loving again. It’s
over draining and mind boggingly straining. Duality is. U wucken feet never
leave the blood stained ground. The text book Guru told u. He told u all, when
he said. To have u being outside of the body of fear and desire.
So that all can be well with
u. U do it now because it is the truth. The body being in the mind, the mind
being in consciousness. Consciousness dwelling in Awareness. Or the Light. By living
inner-outer, by realising that even the thinking I sensation centred in the
brain, is illusion. U conquer fear and hate. Sending the cc virus in u
beseerk.
“Stevee! Sorry mate! But it
just says,” u tell.
NO WUCKEN POLITICIANS OR MOTHERWUCKING DENTISTS ALLOWED! BE WARNED! U R
NOT TO MANIFEST AS MEAT HERE!
By Order.
The Two Big
Burning Bushes
“Oh wuck! Is that all! Wuck! I
thought that I was onto something! Wuck it! Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!”
U’s reads that Stevee is
pretty keen to let it be known that he can pull his weight in this step up
dimension. U’s realise that his confidence is shaky because he can’t read stuff
here. Yet.
“C’mon mate! Let’s look around
some more,’ u says good naturedly. “The sign that we want is bound to be around
here somewhere. Look for the I am word Stevee, no doubt it will be on the sign
somewhere. Look, I’ll draw it for u.”
So u’s does, with a stick that
makes a symbol on the ground. It’s got a circle in it. Some dots as well. Some
r inside. Some aren’t.
It’s like the yin and yang
emblem turned inside out and upside down. It’s a wucken beautiful symbol.
Designed to melt into the soul, like candy goes down the child’s gullet. Into
their little tummies. Where later on in life, they will develop some most
incredible knots. That will cause chaos beyond proportion in their daily lives.
Only when asleep, will they get anymore candy. Because the candy is always
there. Once u knock the wucken ego off.
Stevee studies the emblem and
nudges u around a bit, in the bellyside area. Then he trotts off. Once again, u
go u separate ways, until u can come together again.
Some time passes, it usually
does. Till u super blow the word wucked mind. Then Stevee is hollering out for
u again.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!
Zero! Over here! I found another one! It’s got that symbol in it! C’mon spirit!
Get u wucking arse over here Zero!”
Now normally, if a donk spoke
to a KSS projection this way, it wouldn’t work. Billions in the 3rd
dimensional level 1 will testify to that. However Zero, this is level 2. Where
the times have changed, quite a lot actually.
“Righto Stevee!
Cumminn!….Cumminn!…..Cumminn!,” u sounds off.
“Cooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeee!,” u’s
bellows as u’s busts out in boobs again and heads pronto for the target. U
nipples seem to be a mile in front of u. Each one is like Lancelelot’s lance. 3
steps later, u above average cock is gone and u above average vagina is back.
It is bulging out of u like a
half moon. U don’t notice u genitalia though, when u r running. U’s is locked
onto the target I am sign, and u’s belongs here. In level 2. Like water belongs
to an ocean. Not far off, some crazy wucken bird sounds off. It sounds like it
is laughing it’s guts out, at something or another. It’s getting worked up and
hysterical about something.
It can be frightening, if u’ve
never heard it b4. U though, know it well. It sits like a dot in the ocean of
consciousness inside of u. It serves as a reminder that u did time on Earth,
where u heard that sound heaps of times. Then one day u understood it and u
busted out of that Shakesperian mind play. With the I am made of transcendental
Light truth.
If a bird can laugh its guts out so wucken much, then why the wuck
shouldn’t u Zero?! Ay Private!!!! It can fly and so can u, when u’s activate u
KSS package.
That getting back to the pure
I am was the spark! By Christ, Allah and Buddha! And all of the rest of the PATH
busters as well. It wucken got u going Zero. And u’ve noticed with a more than
decent nod of divine approval. That there r no flies, wucking mozzies or other
bugs. In this lovely, new, picture perfect hologram.
There just r no wucking bugs here!
U r in a so called stupid
human free environment. So far. Because I am stupid is just not part of u
psychic system, these days. Stevee is not stupid either. He just needs to grow
up a bit, fast. Real fast actually. In the level 2 game, that is on the cards.
That r flying around the
table. Refusing to come down. Until the table is wiped clean of all I am this
or that crap and shit.
U can kill a Matrix Zero. U’s has done it b4. Or has u?! It’s hard to
remember, isn’t it? So wucking what! Who needs wucking memory anyway. The mind
does, but the spirit doesn’t. It’s just a CD to the mighty spirit.
If this is u first time Zero.
If u r indeed virgin cosmic consciousness. Well that’s even better. U first
shag might have been nothing special. Infinity to one though that u first
contact with the Real won’t.
Private, when that glory day
comes. U won’t know whether u r comin’ or going. U won’t wanna know either.
There will be no need. Such stuff will only be holographic nonsense to u. Why
use a slide rule when u have 24/7 access to the very lastest super computer.
U wouldn’t think anybody in their right mind would do that. Billions of
so called humans do it though. Strange days indeed. Heavy weather. When u r
going I am inner, I am a body mind machine. 24/7.
Who leaves the Light out of
the equation though?! Because it is not the Light ITSelf. The Light is always
there, 24/7. Something has to give sooner or later Zero. When it does, u r
gunna ring its neck. If it isn’t saying I am Light, it’s already dead to u multidimensional
senses. Take the alphabet out of u’s brain and u’s couldn’t even say, I am
nothing.
U real smile dial is on! On!
On! On! Truly does God luv u in this divine place. God will keep this hologram
going forever, if u want. The temperature is perfect. U semi mater skin is
humming with the glorious warmth of the celestial attention. To body detail.
The sky and the ocean reflect each other in perfect harmony. The birds r
singing, and so r u. I love the universe, oh I love the wucken universe! Is pumping
thru u transcendental psychic veins. It sure is better than having I hate this
current of a wucken place flooding thru u. Don’t worry about George and co.
They won’t last long. They r already dead, and that is no lie. Not when u go
inner-outer and get outside of the Earth hologram. U see them then for the
phantoms that they r.
If u ever get the chance,
u’s’ll have to tell the sisters and brothers. That they too r just It. Made of
Light. U’ll tell all of those currents that they should play the Real game too.
Because it is the best fun. That it is the Real show, from the kid soul angle.
U know. Why though super bust u guts to become enlightened? With u list of self
conceived pre conditions. When u r never not the Lot, the Light?! It doesn’t
make sense. It makes more sense to kill the list. Then kill what made the list.
Being the wucken alphabet.
U may as well just relax, play the simple I am game and let it happen.
U don’t have to play that other I am inner game. Where u do everything possible
to stop it happening, anymore.
U really, really don’t.
U’ve wucked that current of a
so called human game off! It was simply, too horribly re run boring. False to
the core. Nothing but a stress trip from birth to death. Full of dreamers
dreaming, and dreamers waking up too. It was. Holograms r created to be wucked
with, re created and mutated. Was the other divine half of the message.
That u got from inner u space.
U just followed orders. Do not violate any other so called human being. Just
kill the alphabet of pain and misery. U were instructed. U Sadguru, u inner
Light spot, just said do it! U wucker! Do the I am.
So u done it and realised
fairly quickly that it was unadulterated speed for the spiritual and psychic
revolutionaries. To be fascinated with cosmic consciousness in or out, it
doesn’t matter. It’s all the same. It’s all ONE BODY. It’s u super duper, super
mega extended body. The omniverse is. The One that can implode in an instant.
To a dimensionaless point. Where It looks like a human.
It’s wonderful! It’s amazingly brilliant. It’s wucken magic! It’s u
Zero! It is All, U. U will need to get used to that in this the Real game. U
wucking wucker.
Don’t lose it either. It’s not ego u. It’s spirit u. U ego is dying.
Let it.
U cannot fail as the little u,
because u cannot stop It. It’s just gunna happen. It’s not on the drawing
board. It is the wucking drawing board! Spiritual growth is like physical
growth. It just happens. In one life or another. Like hairs grow on u skin.
Wucken far out insights explode in an attached mind. U go in to get out, and
once u r out. What’s to stop u from going further and further and further. Out
in, or in out. That’s right Zero. Nothing! Sweet wucken all! There is no law in
Heaven, apart from Be. There is no judgement out or up there stopping u from
realising cosmic consciousness. That’s a lie. The judgement is all tangled up
in u’s I am inner shit.
Do the right thing Zero.
Destroy it. Give u’s spirit a chance to bring u’s into the Light. Face it! U
personality doesn’t even know what the wuck It the Light is. So it has
absolutely no chance of delivering the goods. Let the manufactured fabrication
go. Live as the inquisitive child again and kill the Matrix. It’s what u came
to the Earth shithole to do. So do it and stop wucking around with the animal.
Because, It’s coming. Matter of fact, It’s already here. It’s that little spot
of Light in u glorious heart. Let it loose b4 body death and u gain 100,000
lives. Go for It like It was u’s one and only soul mate. Because, that is the
truth.
When the ultimate travel is
free, u may as well have a look. U’d be a bit of a cosmic mugshot, if’n u
wucken didn’t. Let it be said. When Zero played Earth, wucken heads wucking
rolled. And the first one that rolled over to the cosmic spirit angle, was
wucken Zero’s! Zero knows that there is the chance of a re run of that in this
new, rather uplifting, holographic game. That is going on in the underbelly of
some Mothership. Maybe. If Brain’s is right.
Well, it isn’t long and u know
that u gutsty old donk mate has scored, super big time. Because there it is b4
u, in lusciously beautiful multidimensional black and white. And the wonderful,
wonderful sign says;
I AM THE AMMO DUMP. THIS
WAY FRIENDS!
( I am the egg man! I am
the wucking walrus! The Real Thing
Too.)
It’s wucking magnificent. It
is the needle, with no damage done. Then, to top it off with the purest honey
that your kid soul of a self has ever come across. There is a golden yellow
arrow pointing out the right direction. It’s shining neon bright. U’s looks
that way and there is a perfect little trail winding off into the magical,
mystical forest. Flowers line it. Big, colourful fungi too.
There’s a Tasmanian toadstool
or 2 about, for sure. Plus a rock star or 2. The sages of antiquity r there as
well. The Mothers and Fathers of all space and time r invisibly applauding u.
The ancestors tip their astral hats.
To the little spirit child who is rapidly growing up.
This is the mystical trail
that they cut in consciousness for u. And u, u wucken current! U wucken went
and found it. All of u seeking brought u back to u basic I am. U’s just sat
there like a happy guru wanting absolutely nothing, and there it was. The
golden path that u’ve been dreaming of. Right in front of u wucken nose.
Simple, direct and easy. Just sit in the sense I am and forget about all future
plans and past, imagined sorrows. U KSS will do the rest.
U appear so, as name and
shape. But u r always the wucken holographic Lot. And the beyond. U come in as
a point, but u r never not the whole. Being every point. U r the only one who
can blow the wucken shit out of the Matrix. U girlfriend, boyfiend, or
whomever. The love of u life. Or the State, or some agent of it. Or service
provider within it. Or even God. Can’t get to your wucken Matrix.
Even Freud couldn’t do it.
Because it is just too wucken personal. This!!!! Is between Zero and that
wucken motherwucking, cocksucking alphabet! That got secondhand handed down and
stuffed into u’s. By wucking currents! It’s all up to u.
That’s what u have to drive home if u want to park u spirit’s car
safely in its cosmic garage. Where nothing on the mad street can get to it.
What was outside has become u
inside. U’ve had a wucken good wuck with u system’s inner-outer holographics.
U’ve done some fine tuning at u central I am made of Light station. Shit a
brick Zero! U r wucken flying. U’s have inverted, reverted, imploded, exploded.
360 cartwheeled, gone multidimensional and turned it wucken all, inside wucking
out. Just like u’ve always wanted to do. Ever since u could say, mama. Or dada.
U’ve got a sniff of uself as u dimensionaless Light point. The Real Self.
Cosmic consciousness on tap.
Wuck!!! For this life, that
appeared for so long. To be so grotesquely horrible. To be such an astrological
and Earth road struggle, getting thru the mind’s wucking battlefield. That u
have found the I am inner-outer door Zero, is really, really something. Well
done spirit! Wucking well done Zerohhhhhhh!!!!! Ten out of ten! Good to have
u’s onboard.
At last.
U’ve saucered uself and
snookered the entire 3rd dimension. To give uself a clear shot at
exposing the 4th and 5th dimensions, whilst u r still
associating with a humanoid body. With a little bit of I am not wucking this,
and I am not wucking that. U and u universe bonked. Beautifully too. I am not a
body mind machine. U say emphatically now.
That that is holographic
projection. Mind orchestrated and mind contorted. U r aware of. I originate
really from much further back, where the Source is. I am made of Light. U say
now. So wuck off with u meaningless word gibberish! U’s told the drag Stevee
component of the game. U’s told the truth. That yours is the power of
perception only. U r not what u perceive. There is in fact, nothing to observe.
There is just the One OBSERVER. U r in essence imperceivable, inconceivable,
unimaginable Light. R u not Zero?! Click yes and u r in. It was shit easy.
That’s what u Sadguru told u to do, to click yes. So that’s what u wucken went
and wucken done. ‘pon Rambo’s balls. U’s wucken dun it.
Ahhh! Wuck a duck. It was
something that u’s has been wanting to have done with for a wucking long, long
time. To finish that seeminly endless wucking positive and negative debate,
once and for wucken all. To clear the wucking system right out. To fill it with
Light again. U’s has gone with the truth Zero. That u r indeed, made of Light.
Which is to go beyond good and evil. Devil and God. George and John.
It’s not another belief system that u r cultivating either. Wuck belief
systems! They suck and they lead straight to war. Wuck them all off. They r
holographic space junk. The only flag worth saluting is the spot of Light in
u’s heart. The rest is just a dream, that will not last one second. Past body
mind machine expiration. Or passing over. Or death. Or whatever words u wish to
attach to 4th dimensional return.
U r just following a gut
instinct of the intuitional spirited mind. Something is whispering to u that
eternal life as a player spirit is yours. It’s telling u that u r a pretty
sweet and precious cosmic commodity. It’s telling u that u have unlimited
potential. That u r not bound by matter, energy, space and time. It’s telling u
that no matter what the wuck u name and shape, or u station of condition. U
skin colour, u race, u creed and so on. U r made of wucking transcendental Light. U r kid soul that is projecting a
so called human, into the 3rd dimension.
U first right in life is to know that. U mortal moral duty is to
understand it. U destiny is to live it. For real.
Born holographically only to
inherit a universe which at source u create. U r now armed to the teeth with
the right I am Light stuff. So naturally, it is time for some sweet revenge.
Isn’t it Zero? There’s nothing wrong with anger and wrath if it is directed at
the right targets. The ones where the darkness is really coming from, that is.
To run around blowing up the outer illusion, is just plain dumb. Because the
keys to the outer illusion r all within.
There is no law in this
universe or any other that says that u have to kill humanoids. Or any other
form of body mind machine construction. The sky gods who endorse such events r
all imagined. Real Gods do not deal with bets about predators and defenders.
They deal with nature. They provide beauty all around, and clean up its mess.
Such war negativity can exist
for only so long. A 100,000 years is a tick tock to spirit. It’s a grain of
sand on an endless shoreline. The universe puts a wucking lot of energy into
making and maintaining its bodies. It loves its seeds. U can’t short circuit
that process, with Sky God and flag backed, killing for profit. Or killing for
revenge, or whatever. And not expect a payback, sooner or later.
From a universe which will
just give u more of what u r saying and implying is real. So u shitty behaviour
will just get worse. U’ll go on moaning and groaning about u shitty wucking
world. So something in u psychic set up is hating something else. What is it?
Sometimes it’s in, sometimes it’s out. If something on the out becomes the
scapegoat for the hate within, then u’ve got trouble.
U’ve got another war, which is
hatred in action. This condition cannot exist on the road to cosmic
consciousness. Because everything is u Real Self.
If u hate u self or Self, u will get nowhere in the Real game. If u
fear u Self, because It the Light is the unknown to u at present, u will get
nowhere either. U will just re run. Because u didn’t get It. Or rather, u
refused to let It get at u. U didn’t be and let be. U tried to dominate and
control. U gained nothing and lost everything.
The killing fields of Earth
will go to a point. Everything does. Then the spirit Governor in the hologram
will wipe the killers out. The crisis will come for them in a big way. They
will discover that the enemy who powered all of their hatred lived within them.
They will discover that what they really hated was their own imagined
limitation. And that the outer, where they had placed the enemy. Was but a shell
of their extended, inner body network.
They’ll be in shock, for some time.
Getting over all of the killing that they done.
Spirits r n’t wucking pussies!
They r not uninvolved with or detached from the 3rd dimension. They
r most certainly not cloutless. They r big, big wucking cosmic bubbles of
immense Light body networks. They span dimensions. They can go way beyond
dimensions too, when they get it right. If u want a mortal crisis, to sort u
true direction out. They’ll wucken give u one all wucken right. Ask with u’s
ignorance, and u shall wucking receive. Deny, deny, deny u spirit’s aspirations
to play the Real game. And u shall get it. U’ll get trouble wucken galore.
Inside and out.
Wuck! U’ll be spewing. Everywhere.
U’s mind could end up being
like quicksand, or a sewer. Or World War 3. For wucken years too. Maybe the
mental and emotional turmoil will carry over into the next life. This is the
risk involved in I am inner only ignorance. It is as the textbook Guru said.
Wise r they who change to inner-outer direction, b4 the crisis is upon them. To
follow personality is suicide. Mortal fame is a guarantee of nothing. Ask
Jimmie, Janis, Kurt and all those others.
To follow spirit is bliss.
It’s guaranteed to make u cosmically famous. To follow spirit just go I am
inner-outer Light. Simple. Easy. Direct and straight to the point. The heart
rules in the long run. It always has and it always will. Because when it stops,
u r dead. Nudge, nudge. Wink, wink. Ah cha cha.
Enjoy! Enjoy! Enjoy! The universe whispers.
It’s time to settle a few old,
old scores then. To set up u directional changes Zero. When someone stages a
coup and comes to power, then a whole lot of somebodies and nobodies have gotta
die!!! They’ve gotta get killed. And wucked off pronto back into the 4th
dimension.
That’s the rule in war and no wucken way Zero. Do u wanna break such a
lovely rule.
Because u guts have super mega
exploded. They span the universes of dimensional matter. All of the subtle
stuff too. A voice inside just kept whispering to u that u r wucking unkillable
spirit. Kid soul cutting its cosmic teeth with wuck around, mind made up,
holographic games. Holographic simulators that trap time into matter, then keep
it all going with energies in dreamt up space. U found out Zero! U wucken found
out!
That there is not a wucking
wucken thing wrong with u, and that if u super desire it, yours is the Lot. Use
all of u stuff to attract IT into u life. In short, be humble to u spirit. Play
with It. Lighten up. U r perfect pie right now. At least u’s had the guts to 3D
show up. When u knew that the 3D game was rigged with madness. Ten out of ten
for that, just to start off with. Don’t tell It to wuck off because the Real
game seems like incredible fantasty to u’s. Because it most definitely is
wucken not. Remember. The real is the unreal and the Real cannot be put into
words. U have to be the Real. Plant I am inner-outer Light seeds in u brain all
day and u’ll be fruitin’ electromagnetics. From u’s wucken ears, b4 too long.
They’ll keep going to the edge of u’s universe. Then they’ll come back to u’s
in a sort of circle. To tell u’s what they did and saw.
U said, b4 antiquity even
dawned. I want to find my true self and Self. Nows u’s chance Private. U can
turn it all inside out and implode it, and play as the Lot. U can. In an
instant too. Without any pre conditions from uself or any other current. Who’s
using words. U can do it on the spot!
With or without words. Just say, I am in-out Light. Or imply it
psychically. Then go ah cha cha! Then sit in I am. U effortlessly peaceful,
lusciously silent, divinely mystical spot.
Be serene. Float everywhere in
time and space. Because the mind can do that. It does nothing else. Be like a
God or a sky Queen. Make everything beautiful, one way or another. Be nothing.
Have nothing. Want nothing. Be happy. Make happy. As the Master said. Be
absolutely free and absolutely fair. Be u destiny and Light up the light that
is already in u.
Because It the Light is
always, always there for the wucking taking! Ha! Ha! Ha! What a wucken paradox
Zero?! What a wucken little pearler of a doozy of a wucker of a paradox. It
made u think that u were just one so called, human body. Living too close to a
darkside. That just wouldn’t be there without your Source Light. And how
horrible is it thinking and experiencing all of wucken that? Being I am inner
and falling for the separation illusion imbued in that very one dimensional
perception. Ha! Ha! Ha! What a current of a trial that wucking is!
In loo loo wucken land. U
experienced it and like billions of others. U went monkey and grabbed for the
bananas. That were the resources at the disposal of u civilization. All
resources, including those stuffed into lumps of flesh. Like many lumps of
flesh do, u stiffened up on u subtleties down there. For sure. Did u go gross
ego. U got taught it. Now u gotta unteach it.
Zero.
U’s wucken ego just gets u
into re wucken trouble. In illusionsville. That’s wucken why. U gotta stay out
of trouble Zero. U’s’s gotta do what Robocop said. And stay out of wucken
trouble. U wucking current.
Whatever it was that drugged u
b4 u mum squeezed u body out, it was wucken strong. Call it karma or KS
planning or whatever. It wucked u around something shocking. Jeez, it knocked u
for a six pointer. But its effects have warn off somewhat now. Thank wuck!
The shock gave u the incentive
to explore at battle speed inside though. That no doubt was the installed
spirit twister. To push u to question everything, like u had never questioned
it b4. It was a cruel bitch, was u life. Whose wucken isn’t? Things going
wrong, in a re run pattern. Mad, super heavy, redneck control freaks
everywhere. Having to face up to the hard facts of psychological destitution,
wasn’t easy.
It got u going in the end though. It brought u closer to u spirit in
life. Eventually. After u’s wild days. After all of u wucking around.
Which is what u life is all
about. Getting closer to u spirit. Coming back to IT. U’s sailed away from It,
and now u r sailing back to It. Cool! That’s just the way it goes. Everybody
wucken knows.
Sooner or wucking later.
That that is the truth. That everbody gets skid marks and everybody
gets a spirit made of Light. To back it up. To clean up its shit and to push
the projected construction to get its wucking arse back on the road to cosmic
consciousness. Where it wucken belongs.
U r reorientating to go for
the Matrix Zero. That is quite evident by now. To all of the cosmic consumers
who r present. For if those who r alive, knew what those who r dead were
enjoying. Right now. They would not weep for them. They would cry with utter
joy. Because those loved ones r as safe and secure in the immortal cosmic Self
as they r.
A little bit of strong inner-outer will bring that into focus in 5
seconds. On Venus and Mars and a multitude of other planets. They sing their
wucken guts out, because they ain’t on the wucken Earth anymore. Can u wucken
blame them?
No u’s can’t. Wait till cc gets here though. It will be all sold out
then.
Emotion is a component of the
mind tool. Which is a creation of the kid soul spirit. It’s the so called
human’s number one wucker upperer, and number one sky higher, simultaneously.
Emotion can be grease like. It can be shitty wucking stuff. Far too yeasty,
kind of. Bogging u down in one of the mind’s numerous cesspools. Where u’s
desires and fears r all mixed up in conflict. Like politicised mentation shit
in a psycho-emotional bullring. The angers that come out of there can be
enormous.
Wucken terrible sometimes. So hard to diffuse from the I am inner
perspective. See it all on the tv live, 24/7. Courtesy of u local multinational
thug empire.
Emotion expressed thru the ego
so often desires power and ego gratification attention. It wants to grab what
is out there and hold onto it forever. It lives I me mine. There’s always
trouble then. For everyone around the globe, these not so heady days. The I me
mine is deadly. Unless u get the Real story going in u, that is. Then these
dark days can turn into very heady ones indeed.
Fast too. I am inner-outer Light is psychic dynamite.
Emotion can also be like
supergloo, as far as fatal attachment to a this or that goes. Bodies. Sky Gods.
Powders, plants, drinks and pills. Gold bars and ego status. There’s no
shortage of such addictive, habit forming things. The emotionalised ego just
loves to grab hold of one or more of them. It wants to feel safe, but it never
does. If it hasn’t got it, it’s in how to get it mode. If it has got it, it’s
in how to keep it from the masses mode. Either way, it just cannot relax. It’s
a worrymonger and a wucken warmonger. To keep it must either defend or attack.
It’s wucked absolutely.
It will not go the cosmic consciousness distance. U kid soul spirit
will though. No wucken worries.
Emotion can be a destructive
devil, or a creative angel. U can rage out mortally or mystically with it. Or u
can drop dead with it. There’s a bridge in Calcutta where that happens
sometimes, if u wanna see it. B4 the next nuclear war happens. U can short live
soar with emotion sometimes, and get u rocks temporarily off. U can love
passionately with it, and u can hate wucken vehemently with it. Matter of fact,
u can do just about anything with wucken emotion.
When u r using words.
It’s easy. Sometimes u heart
purrs away contentedly with it. And sometimes it doesn’t. Particularly if there
is all sorts of kicking and screaming going on in the stomach. If there r knots
or anxiety vibrations there, watch out. Because u’s spirit is pouring it into
u’s. Emotion that evokes a smile, is cool. That which makes u want to kill, is
harder to wucken handle. By far the greater majority of so called humans handle
it. But some don’t. They treat the Earth as their personal killing zone.
This is not wise, in fact it is downright wucking stupid. Why collect
burdensome negative karma? It does not make sense in the Real game.
It leads away from the sign that says,
ON THE ROAD TO
COSMIC CONSCIOUSNESS.
LIGHT BEINGS
THIS WAY PLEASE.
Of all the emotions though,
the strongest one is the euphoria that u get when u do actually LET GO!!!!!
From u pit of the stomach entrenched. Endlessly struggling, cast iron, ego
personality identity. That composite image on the mindscreen that is the
person. That character on that wucking current of a wucken holographic stage.
With the person’s weight, slowly crucifying them. All of those fears, desires
and mished mash word shit. Going around a completely false, non existent image.
It’s a euphoric release when
that all mysteriously drifts off. Or becomes, an affectionate spirited
artifact. Both ways. It’s u’s psychics going full bore. Both ways. To say. I am spirited inner-outer Light, and
understand its implications. With u psychic senses. Brings the most enormously astonishing
lift up. Wuck! It’s bliss! U can go anywuckingwhere. With u spirit. U ain’t
bound at all. That’s a word con and a lie. It’s the cosmic fixer for wucking
sure. It is.
Person ejection is like having
a foreign object that is causing great pain and swelling pulled out of u body.
It’s like dying. It’s wucken glorious. That u r not guilty of being that body
mind machine and its host of imagined problems, is just too wucken much. That
the universe can and is looking after the wucken thing, is great. The best
wucken news that u’ve ever wucken heard. By a long, long way. Who gives a shit
what happens to it?! U’ve got trillions and trillions of the wucken things to
play with. U goose.
For truly, u cannot die.
Because u r not a person. U r not a body mind machine. U r in and all around
all body mind machines. Or rather, they r all in u. Far out into space u go. To
the very borders of matter, energy, space and time u go. Then u go beyond that.
U r constructed of very unkillable Light essence. Being aware then that u r
responsible for u own happiness, u decided to really do something about that.
This time around on Earth. Using the full extent of u’s total body, as it
stands.
Sitting in the I am, just
being. And appreciating u being, whilst giving thanks for it. Gave u amazing
clarity. U didn’t start seeing thru walls, but u came wucking close. Ay Zero?!
U fell in love with the insights that u r perfectly secure, perfectly poised,
perfect material. When it comes to Kid Soul projected, body mind machine.
Now u’s has absolute
awareness, that nothing. Absolutely wucking nothing. Could be further from the
truth, than the assertion that u r just a human. How can any 5 letters be Zero?
When Zero has been around a zillion to the nth years longer, than any wucking
mind made up alphabet?! Who came first?! Who always comes first?!
The I am component in Zero’s psyche does. That’s what gives reality to
names and shapes which r constantly appearing and disappearing. On the
mindscreen. In the field of consciousnesss. B4 God even gets out of bed, Zero’s
mighty I am is there. To initiate the Master programme. Which will turn Queen
Kali Maya on.
U’ve got Vivaldi in u head and
Beethoven is moving u arms. Life is that good these days. It is exquisite. U
soul mate is the Real. U have awareness that u r being transcendentally loved
by a powerul cosmos. Or omniverse. Shit! The Light company is full of some
wonderful super characters. U r body alone here, yet Cleopatra’s smile is upon
u face. U pants r on.
Every other possible female
and male face is there in u as well, in that River of Light. Kali Maya too sits
inside u and urges u to free uself from the cosmic jail of illusions. Re run,
repeated, karmically played out, etc, etc, etc.
That sweet voice inside of u,
when she speaks for the father too. Is telling u to get it on. With the Real u.
The Light. The Lot. Why not? That’s who u really r. Most absolutely. On the
road to cosmic consciousness, that is who u always r.
“Stevee!,” u’s drawls. U
mindscreen word flushed again.
“U’ve conned me and u’ve
cheated me, with false words. U bastard! U’ve given me countless good times and
bad times, loves and hates. With u swamp language. U bitch! U’ve tormented me
with false I am accusations about who I really am, from kidergarten on.
Truthfully, u wucked me up the arse, good and proper. U wucking current!
U’ve given me a run for
m’cosmic money, that’s for wucken sure! But now mate. Now! Now u’s has really
gone and done it. U’ve found it Stevee! U wucken little beauty! After all of
this time, u’ve nosed out the perfect path to the cosmic ammo dump.
It’s like I said Stevee! U r a Master! U gave me the limited, and now
u’s has found out the way to the unlimited. I transcendentally loves u’s! I
really do!”
Then u’s plasters a big Merv
kiss onto Stevee’s glowing face. The bugger’s all red there. Not from anger.
Rather from the sheer unadulterated embarassment of being totally known and
found out. Of being divested of all personal secrets. Of being absolutely 100%
exposed to another critter. Being u. The mighty spirit Zero. Alias, the one who
is also the One.
Well Stevee just cracks
because he’s been able to so soon pay u back for what u said to the burning
bushes. About what a goer he is as an I am vehicle, inside and outside of time.
The beast explodes into hee haws and starts kicking his hind legs into the air.
He is euphoric that he got it right for a change. He is just pissing himself
with the cosmic inclusion.
Understandable, seeing as he
was raised on Earth to fear exclusion. To be paranoid about being left out, of
something unknown. That’s freaky. U’s is forced to quieten him down because the
noise is deafening. And quite out of place in this sort of mystical forest. The
exciteable won’t last long around here, and u know it. Already, the local birds
and other wildlife have formed a trade union.
Even the snakes want to join
it. The wucken cockroaches too. It’s politics, high and low. U though r not
bothered by any of it and as quick as u can, u get Stevee mobile. He’s treading
on the flowers now and looking dangerous. It’s like he’s drunk on adrenalin, or
something. So away u’s goes.
“C’mon u wucken noisy big
donk!,” u says to him.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Haw!,” he
replies, super happily.
The track soon leads to a wide
bush road. U’ve got plenty of room to move here and decide that it would be a
good time to reflect. On the big picture. Stevee though is over keen and keeps
trotting ahead. Then he stops and keeps looking back with a head full of
anxiousness. He’s done it, u don’t know how many times. U’ve never seen him
move so fast, under his own steam that is. Stevee’s speeding. There is no doubt
about that.
“C’mon Zero!,” he keeps saying
to u.
“Don’t u want to fill u’s
holster up with some CDB’s (Cosmic Disintergrator Bullets) and start killin’
wucken words, ideas and concepts?! Don’t u want to get the big bazooka thing
and load up with SLMs?!”
“Stevee!,” u says to him.
“That’s the wucken 5th
time that u’ve asked me that! We’ve got eternity to kill all of the word junk!
Now for wuck’s sake, slow wucken down! Time is on our side. Because it doesn’t
really exist outside of the mind. Now just be still and silent inside. Just sit
in I am. In that feeling that underneath all of the shit it really is exquisite
to exist as simple sentience. All will happen as it is meant to happen.
Everything will work out just fine. The Light rules and we r the Light. Just
let me reflect a bit on stuff. I don't want to rush. There's no need."
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!
What d’y’ wucken need to reflect for Zero?! U r n’t Francis Drake! U r Zero!
It’s action that’ll fix it for us! It’s just up the road here Zero! Hee haw!
Hee haw! Hee haw! Plenty of wucken doing action up here. Wucken free too!”
“Stevee! If u don’t understand
that the action is reflection, then u’ll never reach the Real. To take the true
to be false and the false to be true, is an ingenious paradox. As well as an
enormous calamity. Quite deadly until u sus out u own cosmic release
mechanism.”
“I don’t understand Zero!”
“Neither do I yet Stevee!
That’s why I’m reflecting. I’m reflecting upon the fact that the final secret
is not understandable. That u can never know it, u have to be It. But what does
that involve Stevee? To be the Lot. It’s so wucken alien to everything that
I’ve so far come into holographic contact with. It’s a spook! That’s what it
is. How does u entire being become what u always r, thru a single body point?
How do u’s turn uself inside out and discover that u r the Self. The Real. The
Source. And that the wucken omniverse is a wucken play ball in u wucken hand.”
“I am wucked if I know Zero!!!
That’s a Hollywood, that one!,” Stevee hee haws back to u. Wearing an
extraordinary expression, like he’s King Kong. Because by sussing out the way to
the ammo dump, he did something really useful. For a change.
“ Wucken George and John! I
know nothing really!,” he hee haw explodes your way.
“Except wucken symbols done up
in caligraphy, numbers and letters. Throw in the crop circles now too, if u want.
Wucken George and John! Some of u music
I really wucken liked. And some I didn’t. Some of it was a bit too bloody for
me. Done in the devil key I think. U know the wucken story Zero!”
He drop trotts back and swings
himself along side of u. Like a friendly police car. Or maybe an ambulance.
Maybe even a hearse. Who knows?! Stevee changes that wucken fast. He’s dynamite
when running on his unknown, emotion backed levers. He gives u a sort of a
smile. Then an affectionate nudge in u side.
With a somewhat drunken
expression, he looks at u super curiously. He loves u Zero. U gave him license
to rage and romp. He would not have had any sort of existence without u turning
the first Light on.
But wuck! Just like u, he
wants his own way. Because u said play! So he wants to wucken play. He can’t
fathom any sort of wucking slow down. Wuck that! Go! Go! Go! Do! Do! Do! That’s
his playground. Resting up to the point of dead still silence is for the bum
losers. That’s his current thinking. No movement. No roots. No fun. His big,
bulging eyes r burning question marks. They r set deep into his lovable face.
Jeez though, he wucken stinks.
His big donkey’s arse is
covered in semi dried to sloppy dung again. What a wucking anus! Goes across u
mindscreen. Shit, shit, shit. That’s all that it does, at present. Just like a
baby. Then u’s have to clean it up, making sure that he ain’t got no rash. U’s
eyes off the gear on his back to check out that the dirty big arsehole cleaning
brush is still in its spot. By the tent. The other side of u dangling billy.
Next door to u Laptop. U’s holographic mobile and u’s bits of sun dried snake
strips. Eve babes, u’s calls them.
U’s knows that u’ll need to
find some water, pretty soon. That smell could wucken kill u if u leave it for
too long. Stevee shits aborted words and some of them really, really stink.
Sometimes he has little bits of mashed up letters hanging out of his bum.
There’s bits of shit all over them. It’s wucken disgusting really. Not the sort
of thing that u really want to see when u look inside. Looks a bit like an
alphabetic abortion actually. However, he is u soul mate. Even if he is still
imagining that he’s got disability, u wucken need him. To cart u wucken subtle
technology around.
“R u having second thoughts or
something?,” the dirty arsed beast asks u.
U’s drapes an arm over his big
neck and pats his flank. U’s turns u head sideways and sucks in a bit of flower
scented, forest air. It’s Xmas and u r dying of stench poisoning at the same
time. It’s trenchwork living. U spirit loves it. Loves u.
“Nahhhh!,” u says.
“I wouldn’t do that Stevee. I
am just reflecting on how much ammo that I’ll be able to load up on u wucken
back. I wouldn’t mind an extra crate of SLM’s.”
“We’ll get it on Zero! We’ll get
it on! Don’t u wucken worry about that! Wucken Christ! If I have to, I’ll drag
the Titanic 2 full of cosmic bombs thru wucken hell! To get to wherever the
wuck it is that we’re going. What did u call it again Zero?!”
“Word Volcano Mountain Stevee.
WVM. The target!”
“Right! And all that we have
to do to score big time is to blow the current of a thing to wucken pieces. We
gotta nuke the guts out of the word machine inside, ay?! So that we can be born
again, ay?!”
“Well Stevee, it’s more like
we rediscover that which never dies. That which is alive always in and around
us and which can only be called Light.”
“Anything that u say Zero! I
am out of the wucken cruddy muddy stables and that’s just fine by me. I am
having fun here in level 2!”
“I know u r Stevee. So am I.”
“It’s about time that we had
some decent wucken fun! Isn’t it spirit Zero?!”
“It is indeed donk Stevee! It
is indeed.”
Ah cha cha! Pumps thru u Zero.
This is different! This is a different Stevee to the one that u have so far been
wucken playing with. Stevee’s coming out of his half dead closet. Gooda stuff.
At the ammo dump, u’s load up
with cosmic bullets. And a heap of other stuff. Stevee ends up looking like a
double wucken iceream cone, though he doesn’t mind. He is the happy divine
labourer. 2 crates of SLM’s was all that u could fit on. That’s 12 shots at the
Matrix to try and start off that cosmic chain reaction that is u heart’s
desire. With u pearls full of disintergrator bullets, u r very happy too. Now
that u’ve got the gear, u feel kind of complete. U r on auto. Programmed to
kill the real Matrix. The language one.
For wucken sure, u r now really and truly on the road to cosmic
consciousness. Because u donk’s armed to the cosmic teeth. That old, straight
and rigid back is really dipping. That curve is what u want. And it feels
gooooooooodd. Sublime. Serene and very just.
U sought, u got. The Real
game. The Light loves u and u love the Light. Simple. Forget the rest of the
illusion and play.
U cosmic wucker! Goes across u beloved though transient, mindscreen.
U’s pulls out u pearls and
spins thems around in u’s fingers. U’s give ‘em a couple of quick 360’s.
Forward and back. U’s has got Bette Davis eyes whilst u’s is doing it. Wuck! U
r hot Zero! U r the Light! U r the one! Friday is not on u mind. Killing
wordslugs is.
It’s different now because u’ve got six bullets in each chamber. Plus
heaps more in u belt.
Yet, u feel as light as a
feather.
Madly in love with the mystical transcendental mode u r.
Because u’ve got the word that u can fire. What u got taught in cosmic
boot camp is that once the company gave u the ammo. Then u were free to blast
away to u heart’s content. All that u need now is something to fire at, blast
away, blow up or disintergrate. U can feel the absolutely immense word concept
killing power in these weapons! That’s for wucking sure. Christ! Allah! Buddha!
Krishna!
Nisargadatta and all of the
rest of that very, very enlightened, cosmic bunch. It’s like u’ve got 2
Goddesses on u hips, and u virgin God. Is piled up high on u donkey. It’s very
phallic like. That’s for sure. It’s a humper, what’s underneath it is.
It is grinning too. Like a rooster who has just been let back into the
pen.
Do the mirthy super
enlightened cc bunch want u to make war on planets, so called humans and so
called aliens?! Nahhhhhh! Wuck that! That’s all be re run done b4 and it’s
boring. Boring! Boring! Boring! To the max. No matter what planet that u’s is
on, it’s dark and light kindergarten stuff. Not worthy of u fascinations.
Because all that u do is die again.
Do they want u to wuck around
forever with wucking around with matter, energy, space and time? And all of the
rest of that very one dimensional shit. Nahhhhhh! That’s juvenile, kid soul
stuff. They’ll tell u.
To u wucken face too.
Play the Real game u wucking
current. Stop dreaming! Stop using the mind. Stop imagining stuff that is just
not there. Go beyond that shit! Wake up!!! Motherwucker. Go inner-outer. Revert
back to u natural state. As a cosmic spook. And gun player.
U r wucken made of transcendental Light. We all r! They’ll tell u. The
whole thing wucken is. They’ll say. U r that whole thing that cannot be
described in words. FIND IT!
Because it is consciousness
backed by Awareness. ( The Light) And It is therefore not a thing at all. It’s
way beyond being a thing and it is u. Humble Zero pie. Just doing their duty.
Killing a Matrix. That’s who u really r. They’ll say.
And what did u reply Zero? When they did it to u. When they gave u
their cosmic truths. Like, u too r made of Light.
Something like, yeaaahhhhhh! I can wucken handle that! That’s cool!
Sounds right. I’ve known it all me wucken life. Ah cha cha.
“Hey! Take it easy!,” says
Stevee as u’s practice u draw and spin, to the left and to the right.
“Watch it, u mungrel! U shoot
the mind donkey and u’ll be in big wucken trouble.”
“Says wucken who Stevee?!”
“RIGHT!,” a voice suddenly
booms from out of the sky. U and Stevee freeze. The Voice sounds like
constipated thunder on the toilet, having a hard time. A lovely, gorgeous being
starts manifesting. Not 10 metres away from u left holographic foot. She’s not
the origin of the Voice. She’s a number one lover from the ex planet Earth.
It’s her image. Then his. Then her again.
It’s her standing there smiling at u, and for the wucken life of u. U’s
just can’t figure out what she’s doing there. How did she sneak into the wucken
game?! The dirty bitch. It’s a wucken mystery to u Zero. It’s a curly one.
Neither can u figure out why she’s packing pearls as well. It’s very
perplexing.
“SHOOT HER!”, the Voice
commands.
“Now wait a minute!,” u’s
protests.
“She was a number one ally!
Sure, she gave me hell. But I gave her hell back. After we’d been thru heaven.
I can’t shoot her. Not for nothing!”
“KILL HER!,” the Voice roars.
“Kill the wucking bitch
Zero!!! Do what the Thunder says!,” Stevee hee haws at u in the background.
“Stay wucken out of this
Stevee!,” u’s howl back at him.
“This is between me, the Voice
and that image over there.”
“DO U REFUSE TO KILL HER?!,”
asks the Voice.
“I most definitely do!,” u’s
roars back.
“It goes against the heart
grain!”
VERY WELL! THEN U SHALL BE KILLED!
“Now wait a wucking minute!,”
u’s protests.
“This is far too wucking short
lived!”
“Zero! What’s wucking going on?!!! Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!”
“If I knew Stevee, I’d wucken
tell u’s!,” u’s screams.
“KILL HIM!,” the Voice
thunders.
“Now wait a minute!,” u’s
yells again.
“This isn’t fair! I didn’t get
a trial by jury and I can’t even see the wucking judge!”
“TOUGH LUCK, U MOTHER WUCKER!”
In slow motion, u see it
all, though it happens exceedingly fast. Especially for Stevee. Faster than the
speed of thought, it happens. She draws, like wucken greased lightning. She’s
Kid Superswift. U see the bullet explode from the cosmic chamber and head
straight for u third eye. It’s golden and it’s glowing, like a transcendental
bullet should.
It’s also spinning around
torpedo like. B4 u know it, it penetrates u skull. It gets u right inbetween
the eyes, yet spills not one drop of blood. It’s a 21st century
Shylocker. The skin on u forehead closes up magically as it buries itself into
u waiting holographic brain. It sets off a spontaneous implosion, big time. U
feel an instantaneous sensation of being lifted clean out of it all exceedingly
fast. That’s all. It’s very neat and very swift. It’s pure inner-outer. Then
beyond.
Then there’s nothing, just a
blank screen. U can’t see anything. Not even uself. There’s no sign of the
holographic body of Zero that u were previously messing with. Wuck knows where
it and the rest of the programme have gone. U haven’t got a clue. It’s like the
computer crashed. U didn’t even see the body suit fall off, like u saw all of
those times when u’s died. It just wucken disappeared. There’s just this bland
white screen. There’s not a sniff of a name or shape anywhere.
U have no fear. There is not a
drop of anxiety in u. This is a most interesting development. U r but u r not.
U can still sense u mental I am mechanics, but not their location. U r
fearlessness itself to it all. U r curiousness depersonified and u feel super
protected. By that warm blanket that is the cosmos unfolding.
U r aware that u spirit is out
to give u instruction. Either that, or the game ended, b4 it began. It’s hard
to tell sometimes, because the grand paradox is so mystically beguiling. On the
road to cosmic consciousness, all roads lead to the ah cha cha level. Which is
what every woman wants. Deep, deep down in her soul. Every man too. To get that
though u have to be like the child. U have to be openly curious. U have to be
naturally intoxicated by the world and full of go. When it comes to discovery.
In and out. U have to be fearless and willing to jump in and walk the big drain.
Even though there’s wucken big dragon flys down there. It’s in u to find out
where the wucken drain goes. U can’t hold back. That’s boring.
U do what u got taught at
cosmic boot station. U don’t panic. U initiate investigation along the who am I
trajectory. Obviously, here. The entire game has been turned inside out. U r
neither inner nor outer here. U just r. The thing is, u want to get back into
the hologram programme where u were. Where probably, Stevee is right now
freaking out.
The game hadn’t even got going and u done went and got uself wiped out.
U wucking wucker Zero! U let the the bitch then the bastard, then another bitch
blow u away. Oh well! Shit happens!
U shoulda listened to the
Voice. And Stevee. Even though he didn’t know what the wuck he was talking
about. U got caught out. By sentiment. Or was it the plan that she should blow
u away. Who knows? Who cares? U r still here and now as mental-emotional
essence. U’s just ain’t visible. That’s all.
Now u’ll have to find where
and how to go, click! Again. First things first though. Where r u now? Because
it’s pretty pure. It’s like a screen. U surmise that it is just pure
consciousness. Or pure mind film. B4 anything has been impressioned on it. What
do u need then? Well, u need the show and u old identity back. So!!! U need a
point or a dot to begin with. Ah good! Good Zero! Ah cha cha! A dot! Of wucking
course!
Everything ends with a dot and everything begins with a dot. Everything
begins with a dot of silence b4 the event. Then, when the transient event is
all over. And said and done. The dot of silence, which was also the wider
background against which it all happened. Returns.
The silence is always there as
background. It never changes in its nothingness. No matter what so called
humans try and load on top of it. With their wucken mind programs. The eternal
wucking cosmic background, stays the same. Behind every name and shape, there
is the Light. Which is full of the sounds of silence.
So, just like u did in the
simulator at boot camp, u’s turns on u 360 degree vision. Slowly u start to
rotate, as if u still had eyes. On a spit, like. Somewhere in the screen u
know, there is a wucker plug dot. U must find it. It takes some doing, but u’s
does it. After some full circle rotation. U spotted it at 12 o’clock high. That
point of inversion. Where it all goes in and out.
With u intent strong, u cling
to the dot. U adopt it as u identity. That point that u used to associate with
a brain, is back.
Then with more intent, u’s draws u basic humanoid outline. With the dot
as the point of u cosmic pencil. It’s like u r the cosmic cartoonist. Playing
with the dot of silent nothingness, that came b4 the screen. Or, from out of
which the screen came. The very moment that u complete u humanoid shape,
something extraordinarily wonderful happens.
U’s colour up and fills right
in. Just like Daffy Duck did. It’s wucking marvelous and it’s obviously built
into the program. It’s God on automatic. That’s why Zero can return. There is a
sense of relief in having a hairy chest again, for the moment. It’s like u’s is
James Bond. The dot has now broken off u and reasserted its independendence.
Head first, u dive into it. It’s jet black, but it wouldn’t be there without
all of that Light. U give it no chance to escape back into the screenless
realm.
There r an infinity of
universes in there. Where u dive, head first. Like a dolphin. Then u’s swims
faster than the speed of thought. Like an electron, u’s picks the one that u
want. U size up that hologram that u r wucking with and leave the others alone.
Wuck knows how u did it. U just did it. Because u had that I am component so
necessary to do it, in u.
U’s is turned on strong to the
pulls of sentience. That cocktail of sweetness and horror. That u love to love,
and love to hate too. U r the albatross returning from what appears to be a
long flight. Yet which, in the true reality. Is a spit in the bucket. A grain
of sand, on an endless beach. A level which the mind cannot reach, yet which
the super sooped up heart can.
It has got little to do with Real emotion too. Though u can have as
many emotions as u want. It’s an inner-outer affair. Initially. Jonothan Living
Seagull realised that. So did Buddha. U do too.
The first thing that u hear
when u enter the world that u so abruptly left, is Stevee hee hawing. The noisy
bugger is at it again. U can’t take him anywhere, without him sounding off.
With over loud, dead words. Christ! Allah! Buddha! He’s a wucking marvel!
Stevee is. He is a character and he is just so set in his idiosyncratic ways.
Snails change their tune faster than Stevee does. He gets there though.
Eventually. He’s just a big kid, Stevee is.
“Where the wuck have u been
Zero! Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!,” he explodes at u emerging head.
“Where d’u wucken go?! U
scared the wucken shit out of me, u wucking current! I thought that u were
d…d….dead. What the wuck is wucking going on Zero?!”
“Stop gasbagging Steveee!!!!
Help me to get the wuck out of here, will ya!? All of u questions will be
answered in good time. And the final answer is, nothing is! It’s true! I can
vouch for it now.”
U’s is having trouble getting
u shoulders thru the now only a slit of an opening in pure consciousness. It’s
can sure be a struggle when u r coming down fast, from endless wucking
formlessness. Helter skelter is a bit like u r trying to come out of some sort
of vagina again. U body is all semi solid again now though and u’s is a bit,
uncomfortable.
Stevee trotts over and grabs the collar of u’s astral shirt inbetween
his teeth. The back of u head gets jammed rock solid underneath his slobbering
chin. The 3D stink coming from his arse down there where u r, is wucking
unbelievable. Poooaaahhhh! U’s goes.
U nose is crawling around u
wucken face. Making holographic patterns, that resemble wucked spider’s webs.
Even Shakespeare would get seriously lost trying to write about how it went for
u. Down there. In super Stinkville. Right next door to Stevee’s big arse.
With a powerful little tug, the big brute heaves u out. He’s the
muscle, that’s for sure. From the hole of Light which is holding onto u
humanoid shape, though which has now almost closed up, he extracts u. Then lets
go. From almost 4 feet up, u’s plops onto the ground. Head first. Sploot!
The right side of u face
impacts first. Quite severely too. Not the most attractive photo of u really.
There r numerous replays of that though on the cosmic TV, the Real sky channel.
Where the cc angels and the rest of the sky gangs. R watching. In cosmic bars.
Where they drink the nectar of the Goddesses and Gods. That is called, the
wucken truth. As regarding cosmic life as an unlimited spirit. U can bet that
they all admired that foal like fall. Because u did it perfectly.
The neat little puffs of dust that came up when u hit the deck were
ever so convincing. They were poetic wucking clouds. Some of the cosmic crew
even clapped and applauded. Quickly, your extraordinary multidimensional play
of the day circulates in every astral bar in the cosmic universe. The footage
is an incredible hit. It evokes many divine comments and absolutely stuns
entire astral audiences.
Some remark that u get there
in the end. When u find out that u’ve never left the beginning. Others just say
that that was an unbelievably crude way to travel. The donkey did well, also
did the rounds. Who is that wucking Player?! I haven’t seen them b4! Not on
these vibrations. Was also popular. The moment that u hit the dirt though, was
the moment that the hole of Light fixed itself. There was that last point of
it.
Then there was nothing. Nothing but the names and shapes playing in the
hologram, that u’s is playing with again. That is. That wucking dimensional
hole, it stitched itself right up. The final dot that was the initial dot is
still there. It never goes, it always is. In existence where no mortal eye will
ever see it. Yet it rules. It can get u in and it can get u out. It is called
simply, the I am.
U’s gets up pronto and dusts
uself off. U feels like one of the 3 Stooges but ah wuck. If u can’t laugh at u
own antics, what’s the point of being wucken holographic?! U train as u play!
That’s for wucken sure. If u can’t laugh at u own lunatical ignorance and wuck
ups, then u’ll never be able to laugh at anyone else’s. To deny that u r the Light
is absolutely hysterical from that level where u r indeed, the Light. The Lot.
The Self is always laughing, because It exists in bliss.
The division between ego and
cosmos has gone and the cosmic Light has flooded in. U surmise that it must be
unimaginable unbelievableness to ride that River of Light. And u’s licks u
chops. Because u rerally do know that u r headed for that great big fish and
chip shop in the sky. Pauline’s. The House of Bliss is not to be missed. U have
no intention of missing it either. Not this wucken time around. U r not gung
ho. But u r not gung ho lessness, either. U just want to kill all wucked words
that’s all. U might as well have some fun, while u r doing it. So ENJOY goes
across u mind screen. Again and again and again. U r having fun. Very
insightful fun Zero. Ay?! Cool. Wicked! U r not. Light, u r. As SPIRREEEET.
The little 3D self meanwhile
gets totally and utterly lost in over rated, over exagerated, heavy
seriousness. In its search for secure meaning, it totally isolates itself in
its personal inner. Which it guards, like a wild dog, looking for love. It’s a
toilet paper and bumhole sort of affair really. It’s very private. The I am is
an anus. The I am is a glowing, golden portal out of the pain and misery of 3rd
dimensional, lack of awareness.
U r made of Light, which means that u r also made of transcendental
love. That’s all that u have to keep telling uself. U r the one, the only one.
Who can crack this Matrix bugged game. Don’t expect somebody to come along and sit
on u face and do it for u.
Even if u sit on there face,
that won’t happen. It’s up to u Zero. To be humble and to bring uself home to
that realm of grace that u have never, ever forsaken. Despite all of the
apparently super tough illusions that u have faced. U faced and dealt with them
all. That’s how u got here. Now u must face this. U r the wucking ONE! Forget
about how that feels whilst u still have traces of ego consciousness. Just be.
A real Matrix killer.
Keep u feet on the ground but
let u heart take the mind super deep into the cosmos. Let the mind see it from
there and all will be well with u. Trust Zero! Trust! Trust I am Light and kill
I am made of shit. And so is the current of a world. A smile comes on u dial. U
r back! And u mission is to destroy that inner language that is full of
hurting, very retarding and absolutely false accusations.
Delivered by words. That have
formed a conceptual self image that is bullshit. It says that u r limited.
Hohhh! Buuulllllllshittt!!!!! Considering the hole that u just got uself out
of, that’s wucken rich. The day a politician can do that, is the day that u’ll
look at their crap again. Beware of the I am that lies to u. For the sake of
mortal convenience. This I am is a robber bird. Avoid! Like the plague.
How many times does it have to
be wucken said! U r Zero! U only have one plan. That is u earnest and resolute
desire to get u wucken Self back into u wucken little self’s life again. When u
came from the 5th to the 3rd, u’s got spread around. U’s
left bits and pieces of u true self spread across 3 dimensions. Probably more.
U’s has gotta be u own Shaman. U gotta dive into the kid soul’s
underworld territory, locate and sack up all of u pieces. Then bring them back
into the body mind machine’s construction. So as to Mother Mary and Father Xmas
it on the ground.
U want the Light because u r
the Light. U miss out on so much pretending to be just one, separate, limited
body mind machine, Vehicle thing. It is not fair to who u really r. And u’ve
truly, had a wucking ‘nough of it. U’s have. By Christ, Allah and Buddha. It’s
good to be on the road to cosmic consciousness. It’s u time.
There r no pre conditions, ‘cepting the desire to play. U r a deadset
real player though Zero. U’ve come to kill. There’s no blood on u hands, but
there’s Light inside and outside of u skull. Ah cha cha! It’s party time. In a
very pretty land. That will soon be drenched in letter and wordslug, colour
blood.
U’s sees delightedly that the
illuminating bitch who shot u back into pure consciousness, is still standing
there. Exactly where she was b4 u got excavacated. U’s sees that her wucken
guns r holstered now and that she is still smiling at u. Admitting nothing.
Wanting everything, known and unknown. She’s mesmerising and intoxicating. U’ll
always love the universe through her. U can’t stand it anymore though, because
she’s still a so called human. Or, at least, she looks like one.
That’s the last thing that u would wish for such a darling one. U’s
takes up u former position and sinks 6 transcendental bullets into u old
beloved’s brain. So that she too can have another wuck around with her point.
Who knows what she’ll draw
next time?! It should be interesting. Very interesting indeed. There’ll
probably be lots of flowers about the place, as well as lots of other girls and
boys, u expect. It may look like a world, though it won’t fool her for too
long. Not with her wucken massive brain.
She’s wucken It all right. Tutti frutti. Ah cha cha.
Stevee hasn’t even got time to
get a hee haw out, b4 she’s dead again. U r as fast as she is on the draw. It’s
the first time that u’ve fired u guns. It’s a superbuzz.
Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
They go. U’s have to admit, it sure feels and sounds mighty sweet. Not
one drop of blood is spilt though, again. It’s heavenly wucking stuff.
The hole in her forehead
closes up, just like yours did. Instantaneously, she reverts to a basic
humanoid shaped outline. That is at first, full of stars and mega black sky. That’s
wucking exactly the way that she was back on Earth too. U were like 2 peas in a
pod really. Then that goes and there is just the pure light of consciousness
there.
U's shows Stevee. U’s gets him
to shove his fat, big eared wucken head into the hole in the mind screen. He
wouldn’t go near u when u did u demonstration. The big pussy was too frightened
that he might get sucked in. Vacuumed up, or something. And never be able to
get out again. It wasn’t his fault though. His senses being not yet attuned to
such stuff.
No blame for Stevee, though a kick up the psychic arse will do just
nicely. If u please. I am Light rules. It’s the spirit’s orgasm. It’s the
plughole down which all so called humans go.
Stevee can’t believe it all
and it absolutely blows him out. The transcendental, holographic works do. U
tell him the whole story. About when u went into the hole too damn wucken far.
For u current block of purposes. Where all roads lead to killing the Matrix. U
tell him how u got out. How u found and then played with a transcendental dot.
Stevee listens, fascinated. He
sticks his head back into the void and has another look around pure
consciousnesss. His head comes out shaking. He still can’t wucken believe it.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!,”
he super explodes.
“There’s nothing on that side
Zero! There’s absolutely wuck all! Then, on this side, there’s wucking
everything! Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw! It’s wucking weird! Is level 2. But I
like it!”
“Rrrr! U luv it Stevee! U love
a good paradox. U r just like me! U r a wucking carrot chaser!”
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!”
“PASS!,” says the thundering
Voice. It sounds fine now. It sounds divinely amiable. The conflict of
interests is over. U’ve had u shots.
“Thanks a lot!,” u’s fires
off.
“DON’T MENTION IT!,” replies
the Voice.
“GOOD LUCK! INSTRUCTION OVER!
VOICE OUT! WELL DONE!”
“Thanks Voice!,” u’s roars at
the sky.
Maybe, a bit too excitedly, for your kind of breed.
“What about the beloved?! Is
she cool Voice?!,” u’s enquires.
“SHE’S PLAYING ZERO!
EVERYONE’S PLAYING THE REAL GAME THESE DAYS! THE KIDS Rrrrr COOL!”
“Cheers Voice!”
“LOOK AFTER EACH OTHER!”
“We will!”
“I’LL BE IN TOUCH!”
“Cool!”
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!”
“C’mon Stevee!,” u says. As
simultaneously u’s adjust u Davy Crockett hat. And u tits come back. Actually,
there’s more room in u trousers now. Could be a winner, so long as u don’t
start giving birth down there. Who knows? The shadow doesn’t.
“Let’s roll Stevee! Ah cha
cha!”
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw! I
am with u Zero!”
“That’s for wucken sure
Stevee. We r a team! We r the wucking Professionals!”
“We can’t be wucken
beatennnnn!!!,” u’s sings in unison. As u’s moves out.
“Oh! I love the universe! I
love the universe!”
U’s bellow.
ACT 33. BY THE
CAMPFIRE, THAT NIGHT
U had vegetarian. For sweets,
u devoured the fattest, sweetest wucken mango that ever lived. Stevee stuffed
himself out in the carrot garden. He had his big arse bathing in the moonlight
out there for about 2 hours. Then he had six wucken mangos. U’s is straddled by
the fire, cleaning u pearl. The one that u blew her away with. U’s have to
admit it. U’s is a busting and an itching to start shooting. And blowing stuff
up.
So far though, everything that
u’ve seen has been tres beautiful. Apart from Stevee’s arse that is. And u
fixed that temporarily at the little creek that u found earlier on. Stevee
starts blowing a little cowperson’s tune on his astral harmonica. His piece is
wailing away like it lost its soul, or some’in’. He’s grooving and mellowing
out at the same time. The bugger is getting ready for sleep. U can see it in
his big round eyes, that r so perfectly reflecting the campfire.
And the surrounding universe. He’s exhausted from the heavy hauling of
the day. The lad is blowing his final tune for some X number of hours. U won’t
mind the absence of hee haws, for a while. It’ll be peaceful, in a way.
“Hee haw! Think I’ll kip
Zero!,” he tells u, real soon.
Then he rolls over onto his
side and pulls his brand new blanket up. It’s got duck feathers stuffed into
it. Stevee is pretty wrapped in that. He lets out a couple of snorts of air
thru his big nostrils. Then a giant sigh of contentment oozes from him. “I love
the universe! I love the universe!” U’s hears him whisper to himself.
U’s smiles. As u does so Stevee’s big head comes back up and twists
around. Till he’s looking straight at u. With his ears up on full alert.
“Wuck those carrots were
good!,” he hee haws at u.
“Wuck those mangoes were
some’in’ else! Wuck this blanket is a gas! I think that I am going to like it
here Zero! There’s quality around this joint, and I dig that. I have to admit
it. It’s getting better all of the time here.”
“Yeah! Quality is good shit
Stevee!,” u’s tells him.
“U deserve a shot at it though
mate! U dug u hooves in, and then u got ‘em out.”
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Haw!”
Stevee turns around, his head
flops and he goes out like a light. U’s have to admire him. He is a great
worker and he does appear to need his rest. When he farts voluminously though
and stinks out the campfire zone, with a rank semi digested carrot and mango
mix; u’s decide that its time for a walk. It’s worse than a dozen bad eggs.
What comes out of Stevee’s arse is Rank. Capital R too.
U’s also remember that u r the
spirit who never sleeps. U’s remember that u’ve got a heap of killing to do and
that u have to find the one. Whom u must save. U can’t shoot Stevee and u can’t
shoot the one whom u must save. Maybe there’ll be other stuff that u shouldn’t
blow away too. U’s’ll have to be careful ‘bout that. When the Real game really
gets going. There is this awareness in u now that pretty soon, it will. Hot up
a bit.
U’s goes back to the creek,
where u not so long back. Washed Stevee’s arse out, again. It was good
territory and u have a little wish to have another look at it. It’s a full
moon, but u r not a werewolf. U bosom is back and is doing its usual heaving up
and down. Not that u notice it, but the cosmic cameras do.
The director is actually calling out to leave the cameras there, a
while. At the creek, u's hears something loud and strange. That sets u off in
another direction. Across the creek and further south.
There’s plenty of moonlight
and it’s not thick bush. So u’ve got a perfect view of everything. It’s cool.
It’s mighty good cosmic consciousness country that u r treading. There’s
humility in every step that u take. The stars above r out in force and the jet
black sky inbetween them is absolutely harmless. It is in fact, totally on u
side. Because it’s part of spirit u.
U’s comes to a clearing and
spots what’s making the horrible bellyaching noise. That u’s has been hearing.
Hidden around the corner of a suitable tree, u size up the enemy. U see that
there r 3 of them. Big car size, they r. They r crawling across the clearing at
a snails pace. Like they r in an advertisment and showing off, or something.
They r a dirty orange colour and u r gunna have ‘em all for a nightcap. Filthy
wucking big word slugs they r!
“I am full of emotional mentation
shit and I will never amount to anything!,” the dirty orange word things r
moaning. As they slug along.
“I am more clogged up than a
constipated bowel. I am part of a mad species on a mad planet and there’s no
point to it all. It’s all bullshit, and so am I!” They groan, b4 speechmaking.
“There is no way out of here
and once a slug, always a slug. Oh God! God! God! I am such a limited and
shitty thing. I need your help to overide the perils and pitfalls of the
overwhelmingly desirable temptations of the flesh. I wouldn’t be a damned
human, if I wasn’t imperfect. Please!!! Help me God! Save me!!! For I am just a
useless sin in skin slug, crawling across the holographic dirt.
I am in need of help and an angelic lift, for wucking sure. I am a low
down, dirty rotten sinner. I’ve sinned and sinned and sinned! To my heart’s
wucking content!
That’s why I am laying it on
u, how helpless that I am. I just can’t help it! I am an addict!!! I am super
hooked! I can’t stop!!!! I do enjoy the odd bit of sin!!! I really, really do!
Ahhhhhhhhh! It’s a rush. The book is right. I am bad and mean and mighty
unclean. A nasty ego current, I am.
Trouble is the nature of my cored mortal coil. Too right! Too right!
Too right! A septic tank is less wucking polluted than I am. Oh truly, I am
wucked, I’m wucked, I’m wucked! I am gone for all money. I’ve got a demon in me
called the ego.
Help me God! Help me Rhonda!
Help me any wucking body! For I am gazootsly lost in an oceanic sea of pain,
turmoil, despair and galling wucking confusions. My world of meaningless
survival is full of fear and hate. I hate and I am hated. In an endless sea of
mad dog manipulated violence and war. Oh! I am wucked! I’m wucked! I’m wucked!
Wuck it! Wuck it! Wuck it!
I am a dirtbag of super selfish
shit, deep down. Where I am guilty of everything that could be called,
bedevilled ignorance. Known also as selfishness. Where my sole interest is in
furthering the interests of my own little stockpile of word attachments. I am a
human body, that’s my excuse!
I can’t help thinking that
because the solid world is just so wucking wonderfully real. There’s nothing
like a good wuck with it. To bring u right down the grace ladder. I love my
stomach, when it’s full. I love my arsehole, when it’s washed and wiped.
Magnificently. Cleaned up. U know?! I love my groin, when it’s blown.
And voided of those befuddling wucking juices. That beguile the body
and mind so. I love the voice in my head. As much as I hate it, sometimes.
Because of its incessant intensity, about the same damn things. I love words.
They go round and round and some wucken how. I keep my feet on the wucken
ground. And sling them around. Like shit burgers. I am a survivor. Wuck it.
Like flying wheelbarrows. Or
even, at other times. Like planes that have been shot down. With fire streaming
off them, they fall to Earth. And crash. With a big bang. The words do.
I can earn a slug’s crust too. I can slug up to the bank anytime.
Borrow a few bucks or wucken millions. Billions even.
I look after the desires of this body mind. And the desires of others,
who give me what I want. Being reinforced ego power or other attentions. It
doesn’t wucken work though. It doesn’t make me soul happy. This is the problem.
Because there’s too many egos about the place. There’s far too much competition
and conflict.
There’s a major lack of shared
cooperation. Wucking woe re run, defines little wucking, miserable wucken me.
That’s my lot. That’s my breed. That’s the way it should be because I am an
unworthy shit really. I need saving. That’s the truth. God gave me everything
and I and my kind wucked it up! Big time.
It’s because I’m a human full
of evil ego shit, that that has happened. I am bad and mean and mighty unclean,
for sure. Satan has me in his robber’s bag and hell is where I am headed. Shit!
I am already there! Stuck in the shit. And rightly so! Because I’ve been such a
current. Could u get me out of it God. Please! I did it all for u, u know?!
All of the killing, it was all
done in your name. We thought that we had your approval to wrath around with
war a bit. So as to get rid of the bad shit and the eat too much peasants. So
as to create a wonderful global monopoly, where profits could really, really
peak. Go thru the roof, so to speak. U know that I just followed the perceptual
line. Your Eminence! Sooooo, I wasn’t doing anything too wrong. Now though I am
in a bind, because I just can’t figure it out anymore.
Like I used to. Nothing makes sense anymore. It’s all gone nuts. I am
drowing in a sea of meaningless gibberish. Neither money, pussy or solid hunks
turn me on anymore. Not in this strange, estranged place. Could u help me out
God please?! I don’t want to be bad anymore. I don’t really like it. I am sick
of trouble. I just want to die sometimes really. Oh the pain! The pain, the
pain, the pain!
The sorrow, the sorrow, the
sorrow! The angst. Of tribulation upon tribulation. Down where the lead encased
heart reigns seemingly supreme. I know that I am just a dirty shit God, but
please could u help me?! And save my worthless soul in the process. There’s a
good Chap! Whenever u r ready, just hop a cloud will u’s?! I’ll be directly
underneath it. Bemoaning existence, wholeheartedly.”
U’s has heard more then enough
stupid word crap from the 3 filthy wucking mouths. They r obviously students of
dying psychic processes and u’s springs into action. With u natural, nature God
on u side too. U’s races around the circle of the clearing and gets head on to
the slowly oncoming; I Am Full Of Sin Shit and So Is My World, Save Me God,
slugbugs.
Then u’s steps out of the
woods to where they can see u. U cigar is hanging out the left side of u gob. U
Clint Eastwood hat is tipped slightly down. U sash is brightly coloured and is
going up and down with u bosom. It looks pretty good. The audience rather like
it. They r all telling themselves that it is about time that the real shooting
started. They sense that the wordslugs r gunna get killed. They lean forward in
their seats. Some of them fart. Girls too.
U’s is frowning at the filthy false wucking shit that is slugging
towards u. Leaving a goo trail of stupendous proportions, they r. U can’t wait
to blast them in their stupid brains. Still frowning, u’s starts to walk
towards the oncoming word crap. A more lacklustre bunch of concepts, u’ve
rarely seen. The Voice puts on some music for u’s. U’s hears all of the
whisting and stuff from the Good, the Bad and the Ugly shootout. It’s cool and
it’s apt and the Voice as usual, is spot on. With its selection of orchestrations.
It is the music.
U’s reach the filthy brained
slugs. They stop. With looks of amazement on their ugly mugs. They have no idea
who u r. U don’t even want to talk to them, because they just won’t get it. Why
waste u’s time?! They r too bloated and too wucken full of it. U draws with u
left pearl this time and fans off 3 transcendental bullets. Into their rotting
brains. Finally, the cat snarling on u face changes to a super delighted smile.
There’s quite a bit of
fireworks that comes off the dimensional interphase that u’ve created.
Dissolution puts out a heap of energy, as so called humans only too well know.
With their atomic bombs. The slugs blow out exploding cosmic rockets in all
directions. U’s watch them go sky high and blow up.
Golden parachutes of gorgeous dissolution fill the air. They drift down
slowly. It's like it's snowing softly softly like. They r the surviving
molecules from the slugs. They melt as soon as they touch the ground. U's is
impressed with the show and the way that the enemy simply dissolves in front of
u eyes. It couldn’t get any more beautiful. It couldn’t be any more just. Than
to replace all of that crap with I am Light.
Then u’s sees 3 more in the
distance. And 3 more behind them! There’s more behind those as well. Christ!
Allah and Buddha! The whole fort has come out for a moaning and groaning slug
around. I am limitedness that is most succeptible to being downright nasty,
then denying it or covering it up. Is generally what they r saying. As well as
the save me God stuff.
Which they talk so much about. Without any understanding of how that
super mechanism is really working. For them. In a holographic, anti war sense.
Anyway, u’s blows the lot of
them away. U’s runs down the column of slugs fanning away and re loading. Like
a lunatical maniac. Then something wonderful happens. The Voice tells u that u
bullet slots on u pouch will now self load. So that every time that u pull out
a bullet to load up u pearls again. Another little golden transcendental, disintergrator
bullet, will immediately manifest there. Free of charge.
It runs across u mindscreen
that u’s really is playing the Real game now. Instantaneous manifestation!
That’s hot stuff! Blow u away shit. U can’t help uself. U r so happy that u’s
start sinking a whole chamber into every one of those filthy dirty, word and
concept slugs. That were born as mental abstractions of an invented language,
that was foisted and super imposed on u mind tool.
When u was a child. With a child’s enthusiasm to destroy a bad
situation. In order to discover what the wuck is on the other side of it. U’s
attacks and kills them all.
U r Laureen of Arabia and they
r just word turds. The word mercy just isn’t in u vocabulary and the sky is lit
up like New Years wucken eve. Ten thousand times over. It’s absolutely awesome.
At the end of the line, when the killing is done, u’s notice something else. U
tits r gone and u formidable dick is back. U’s has morphed again.
U shakes u head in delight and pulls out u wucken awesome oldfellah.
For an absolutely busting for it leak. No need to squat with such a load in u.
It’s wucken Xmas time, courtesy of u penis.
A camel hose of Freudian
holographic urine is soon splooting into the lush, green, Jungian ground. 6
feet away, having taken a semi circular route. All of that exercise sure worked
up the over loaded nutrient juices in u. U r the flood. Stevee would be proud
of u. For all that u know. U could be at Lords. Or the MCG. Or Subiaco. Or
Crazy Johns. Or in any grand stadium. Including the Coloseum.
Pissing on the pitch. There’s a crow beside u, too.
Because it’s crazy what u r doing. But it’s wucken fun. No cocksucking,
motherwucking word thing is gunna tell u that u r limited. And live to get away
with its lies. Not now. Not anymore.
U r Zero the spirit and there
is no word for how unlimited u really r. Except Light. The mind created a
holographic world and then invented a creator of it. It got it wrong. It called
the creator God. Now u know who it really is. It’s u Zero. U did it with the I
am component of artificial manifestation. Now u will reclaim all of those
wonderful cosmic secrets that r rightly yours. That belong to u. No piece of
abstract word shit is gunna stop u. Doing that. For Zero, this is the bash. The
only bash that will count in the long run. It’s the bash for cosmic
consciousness.
U’s has hardly voided u
exquisiteness, when u hears something else. U turns on all of u bionic stuff.
Graphs and grids flood u mindscreen. U sonar and u radar r on as u locate and
diagnose. With u diagnostics. Just like the Sarge taught u when u was in cosmic
boot camp. Then u add that final step that the Sarge told u about. If u want to
find the real shit in u life, sniff out u home ego ground.
That’s what he said. So u does, away from where u pissed. Like a
bloodhound, u’s sniffs around. Pretty soon, u’ve got a strong scent of some
more filthy wucking word shit and u’s is off.
Like the wucken Flash. U’s
goes back to where u’s stashed u rifle. U’s does a Cook. U’s wraps u hands
around u rifle and u feels all of the power of the inner Hulk. And the inner
Hulkess too. The Voice tells u that the rifle will just keep re loading itself.
It’s a fully automatic, as from now. U’s lift u head towards the sky and just
says clearly and concisely.
“Thanks for that Voice!”
“No worries Zero!,” the Voice
answers.
“I am here to please!”
As u’s bolt along. The legs r
pumping and u r outside of it all. Watching them pump. As well as watching the
mind pumping out its seemingly endless words. From the outside. U r in no way
split essence though. U r 10,000 miles high, but u can see clearly what’s going
on everywhere. From a completely intergrated perspective. It’s wucken obvious.
Zero is in town and Zero is having fun. In that realm where all word shit must
die.
Up aways u’s stops with shock. It’s hard to believe u holographic eyes.
It’s like someone left the mental as anything zoo gates open, or something.
Because there r wucken herds of slugs upstream.
Little ones, big ones and all
sorts of dull and murky coloured things. R gathered this and that side of the
stream. Some r prehistoric, dinosaur types. As big as houses, they r. U’s
heaves u rifle up to u eyeball and promptly blows a dozen of them away. There’s
a blinding crack of a noise. Every time that u pull the cosmic trigger. U get
‘em thru their eyes. Their weak spots.
“I am a human!,” some of them
were saying. Now u can’t have that. Not in this game, where the stakes r so
high.
“I am a woman!,” some of them
were saying. B4 they died the death of utter dissolution. Now u can’t have that
either. Because u cannot be described or defined. When u go timeless. It’s
impossible. U cannot be the observed, if u r with the real observer.
“I am a man!,” some of them
prehistoric wucken things were going on.
B4 u took them out too. Wuck! Who wants to be just a man?! Or just a
woman?! Especially these wucking days. Where merely being that is so
tremendously, deadly dangerous. Better to just remain a spirit and to leave all
of that false word identity shit alone.
U r a body, all right. U r the
cosmos and the transcendental beyond. There r no word flies laying their
maggots on u. Not when it comes to identifying as being cast as one wucking
mortal. Wuck that for a joke. Some illusions r fun. Some aren’t. That one most
definitely isn’t.
The fireworks r on again. Who
cares? About wucking illusions. The sky is lit up like the first day of
creation. U’s have to wonder how Stevee can sleep thru all of this. U really
do. Old Stevee, goes across u mindscreen. He don’t know what he’s wucken
missing. When he snoozes away. He misses out on all of the real fun. Wuck! It’s
glorious what u r doing. And long overdue that u reminded uself that u r
indeed. Made of Light.
Something attracts u divine
attention. U’s looks down towards u left foot. There’s some squeaky noises
coming from down there. From some word slug thing, that’s got an over sized,
fat wucken face. And arse.
“I am a body with two, too
small tits!,” it squeaks at u.
Considering that u r still in
a male body, the insult isn’t even worth considering. U’s pulls out a pearl and
leans down and sticks the barrel up one snoz nostril of the worm. Then u’s
lifts it up to eyeball height.
“Listen wuckface!,” u’s tells
it.
“U r full of shit! So long as
u heart is in it for the good of the whole lot, then u r guaranteed a good
time! Who cares about bodies when u’ve got u spirit hot up u arse?! Ay!!!!!”
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam!
“Oh wuck it!,” u roars.
“U r all gunna die! U’s shit
wucken burgers!”
Then u’s grabs u rifle in u
left arm and wedges it against u waist. Where it is snug tight and just at the
right height, for the sort of cosmic being that u r. U grabs u right pearl and
just starts blasting and blasting. Even when u super deftly reload u pearl, u’s
still keep blasting away with u trusty rifle. It’s cracking and blamming non
stop, like it was born to do.
Pretty soon, there’s this and
that word accusation things dissolving everywhere. Slug bodies r going down like
ninepins. It’s true. U r taking out the alphabetic cancer that has wucked u
around and around, up and down, down and up. In a body and not in a body. Over
and over again, machine like. For wucking aeons.
Now it’s your wucken turn
Zero! At long, long, long wucking last. To kill the word machine that is
holding u glorious kid soul back. From realisation. With 3 supercool words.
Being, I am Light. The truth! The final wucking answer. There’s not a cock or a
vagina on Earth, that could argue with that. And win. U r ok kid. That u r into
u destroyer phase is obvious to all. Cool.
It’s like pure consciousness
is gorging itself, where u r now. The old world is mist and the new one is as
clear as wucking day. U r hot to trott because u r the cosmic shot. When it
comes to taking out a Matrix. Everything is coming back to just the pure I am,
unbound, unattached component.
The I know, I love, existence as consciousness; super psychic aspect of
u. The mystical u is in ascendence.
There r holes in the holographic
picture carpet left, right and centre. All around u now, the pus of rotten
words used in rottenly false ways, is dying. A glorious death. The holes r
starting to close up. It’s like every shitbag, false this or that thought
identity that u ever had about uself. Is here represented, to be taken out. And
while u r killing away destroying that which for so long has encapsulated u in
a mental cage, there’s only one concept that is going across u mindscreen.
It says. I am Light. I am the Lot. It still feels funny. Considering
how thoroughly u pulverised u entire psychic works into one limited body. In a
wucking holographic dreamworld.
U r getting used to it though.
To have the truth and absolute freedom, u left the timeless void. To have the
truth and absolute freedom, u will return to it. It’s paradoxical, but it’s
rather nice. It puts a different accent on the game and gives u a good feel for
u unlimited potential. The River of Light beckons u with a song. A song which
the mind will not recognise.
Yet which the heart can sing, when it attunes to the spirit. That’s
what u r after. Some call it enlightenment or realisation. Some call it u
natural state. Which the exceedingly clever and psuedo realistic, material
delusions of the mind cover up. Thus giving full force to a word called
illusion.
Which means being mind tricked
into believing that matter is not spirit consciousness. Rather is it a world
full of separate things. Which u can do what u like to. Without doing it to u
Self. Which is heinously false. Every human is a Hitler to their Self. Deny!
Deny! Deny! U know?! I am not the Light! That’s not me! I am just a limited
wucking human and I am…da da da da da da da. Etc, etc, etc. On and on and on.
How many combinations can u get from 26 letters? Lots and lots and lots. All of
them false.
To unblind, unbind, unwind and undrug uself from all of this word crap,
u r on the road to cosmic consciousness. Cc is Zero’s true destiny and it’s
about time that Zero had a good play with that truth. Because the human is
going nowhere. Fast too, these silly days. It sure feels good to let go of all
of that psycho babble word identifying crap. Ay?!
Everytime that a piece of I am
this or that crap dissolves, u’s feels the orgasmic energy bump up from another
wonderful release. Like the Highlander done. It’s like u r self purging uself
from all attachment. To anything that is weighing u down with a false, narrow,
bone pointing image. And u r FREE! Now! Of false burden number X. Whenever
another slug dissolves completely, it’s wucken bliss.
Even the I am concept, u r
starting to circle. Like a dolphin who has the wings of an albatross. Picking
out insights that basically, stagger u. I am nothing goes across u mindscreen,
and that just blows u out. Kill the letters, then that is It. That’s awesome
shit. Because, in a duality, if u r nothing, then u r also everything.
If u r the little piece who is all inner-outer peace, then u r also the
whole lot. U might kill some more, and come back to these cracker cosmic paradoxes
later on. No doubt. Another good cosmic decision by the unkillable Zero. U know
there’s nothing wrong with thinking about and contemplating the Real. That is
step one. Every time that u do it, u destroy a bit more of the illusion.
So u’s starts blasting away
again. Pretty soon there’s another awesome sky show above u head. It’s 3am and
back at the camp site, Stevee has woken up. It wasn’t the skyshow that did it.
It was that his bladder was bursting with 44 gallons of carrotty mango urine.
The sky show though alerts him to the fact that u r doing some serious
damage out there. He is up on a mound and can see for quite away around. Where
u r looks like a city that is being bombed. It’s a Dresden type scenario.
There’s a glowing light
hanging over a wide area. Stevee thinks it’s wucken grand, until he starts
counting how many shots u r getting off. He hears the rifle going non stop and
u pearls firing just about non stop as well. Christ! Allah! Buddha!
Nisargadatta! It sounds like World War 3 out there. It really does. Crack!
Crack! Crack! Blam! Blam! Blam! That’s all that big ears can hear.
The donkey on the hill is no fool, but he still cannot believe his ears
and eyes. Because the sky is full of explosive nonsense and the sounds. The
wucking sounds! R drumming out time.
Like all concepts, time is
dying. It does nothing else. Like space, it fades away. Like matter and energy,
it just comes and goes. Find that which never ever fades away. Find that which
never ever changes. To which transcience is a mere word. Invented. An
abstraction. Find that, and the 3D aspect of the game is over.
Endless mind blowing, soul orgasming, discovery after discovery. In a
totally free, totally truthful, Light filled environment. Being the timeless
reward. For u earnest endeavours.
Face it Zero! If u were any
more wucking earnest than u already r. There would be a nude statue of u on
every street corner in every city, town and village. On that poxhole Earth.
Which u dragged u arsehole through, to get here. To Real game territory. Ah!
The Earth! It had its moments. Mainly u relationships with other souls there.
It’s all memory now anyway.
And all of those cats u knew back there, they’re playing the Real game too. In
their own way. So what the wuck! Mould all of u transcendental emotion backed
intelligence up into a Light ball. Then fling it around the wucking cosmos.
Expand further out into consciousness. Ascend. That’s the message that your
spirit, your Sadguru inner truth is giving u. Ignore it at u peril.
U’d be a cosmic mug not to
follow it at the slightest hesitation now. Those days of following the wrong
shit r gone. Like all memories, they fade away.
The meaning of life is not a number. Or a sky God. Or victory in a
profitable war of supposed good over supposed evil. It is to find u Light. It
is to realize that everything is made of Light. It is to come to grips with the
paradox that although u appear as the single. U r also the whole lot,
simultaneously. U r the Light.
It’s astonishing! Though very Real, if u get it right.
Crack this Zero and u won’t
have to worry about getting u kicks in anybody’s bed. Including u own. U won’t
need a bed. Because u’ll never be asleep. U will be that AWARENESS that is
timeless, causeless, endless BLISS. Etc. Etc. Etc.
It’s there if u want to throw in the ego towel Zero! It’s on the plate
forever. There’s something telling u to go for it now though.
Now! Now! Now!
All up front to the mind u
need to be, but dead to it as identity.That’s what u r acting upon. It’s like
the kid in u has got super curious again. It’s shrugged off its fear and
alienation. It the kid has focussed desire entirely to one point in the game.
TO KILL THE MATRIX!
The real Matrix. Not the Hollwood, money making, entertainment
one. U world has turned into a magical
and mystical playground, for this purpose. Where u can kill as many word demons
as u want. Hohh! U cup runneth over Zero! U r a lucky, lucky, lucky spirit.
There is absolutely no doubt about that. U could wucken weep for joy sometimes.
It’s good to be holographically alive. Ay?!
It’s a buzz. It’s a wucken super buzz these days.
The old I am, I am, I am!
Without anything clinging like shit to it. It gets to u dead centre. Every
wucken time. U r getting harder on the words for sure Zero. The cat is a
trillion miles out of the bag. The Real truth is gunna turn u into something
that is a zillion to the nth times harder than diamond. Infinitely more
powerful than any nuclear bomb. Yet the only human word for it is Light. Oh
well! Another paradox to chalk up upon the cosmic blackboard.
Hoist the Jolly Roger and kill
all false word identifications to u I am. Kill! Kill! Kill! The Real game is
on! For Zero! And for all of those who r young and old. In the heart. When an
ego dies voluntarily, the cosmos rejoices. The Goddesses and Gods of universes
far and wide, toast each other.
A joyous event evokes joyous celebrations. Naturally.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam!
Etc. Etc. Etc.
That’s all that the stiff in
the head and body Stevee on the hill can hear. It dawns on him that u won’t
have any wucken bullets left soon. Anxiety beckons him. It crawls under his pillow
and farts 3 times. He’s worried that he is gunna have to trudge all of those
hard miles back to the ammo dump. And wucken start again!
Because u Zero, can’t control u wucken shooting. U can’t budget! He
doesn’t know what u know though Zero. Does he?! He knows sweet wuck all really.
He only knows the invented and dreamt up side of it. He takes the pictures on
the screen to be real and plays I am in it in a body. Up to his shitty
eyeballs.
The adorable bugger does.
About the character who is
operating the PROJECTOR from where all of the pictures r coming. He knows
nothing, and thus so far. He has lived nothing but divine ignorance. In an
illusory hologram. And yet as much as he can be a current of an enemy. That can
give u the hardest, most unbelievable time.
A more rock solid, down to
Earth, ally of a friend. U will not find anywhere! Not in this wucking cosmos
anyway. There’s no doubt about it. Without him or the her equivalent. Say Mary.
U’d have no one to lug u heavy ammo to the Matrix. Would u Zero?! U couldn’t do
it. U don’t have the holographic appropriateness. U’d be wucked.
U r inner-outer Light and yet
without ol’ Stevee, u just wouldn’t be in this wucken game. U’d be
formlessness. U’d be back in the UNKNOWN. Grooving no doubt. There’s one thing
about kid soul spirits though. They take their wucking fun where they can get
it. If they go to sleep to their Light bodies when they drop to 3D density. It
is only for the glorious ride that they get when they wake up.
Whilst still knocking around with a physical body, and simultaneously
realising in true awareness. That they actually have a Light body too. Which
can only be described as the cosmos. The whole lot. Seen and unseen. Known and
unknown. The omniverse.
To do this mega identity trip is
to REALLY live. For Real. Some call it enlightenment, some call it realisation.
This diving back into It. It’s the destiny that cannot be stopped. Because all
souls r ONE. When u kill the Matrix and ride the River of Light. Into the
Shoreless Ocean of It. It’s that golden cream that u r after Zero. Wuck the
wucking rest of it. Mere dreaming.
Wake up to I am Light is by
far u best wucken bet. Take it to u grave. Having never ever spat on it. This
is wisdom. Because it is the truth that u r the one who came from the Light. So
that u could return to it. As the One.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!
Hee haw!,” the big hooved beast on the hill erupts. As he kicks his back legs
angrily out.
“Slow down Zero! For wuck’s
sake!,” he screams out into the night. His fine big ears r sticking up on full
alert. A rank scowl of disapproval is upon his donkeyed up face. He’s the
critic.
Stevee gets no answer though. All that he hears is blam! Blam!, blam!
Etc. Eventually he takes himself back to bed. He rolls around with the noises
in his head some, then drifts off into a dream. About Mary and him.
There’s no sex in the dream.
Just a heap of weird dry stuff with hidden meanings, that’s all. Not the best
dream that Stevee ever had. Considering what’s going down in the woods around
him. It’s pretty down the scale really. Is Stevee’s dreaming tonight. One half
of a star only, if that. The critics panned it actually. Seen that wucken shit
b4, they all wrote.
It was a better show back then. 30 years ago. Not so crazy. Less explicit.
Don’t bother with it citizen. It’s crap.
Not for u though Zero. Your dreaming is getting better by the second.
Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Go u’s incessantly bold cosmic
guns. Repetetively and non stop like. U r striding now through the slug flock.
Like a prophet preaching. Plugging everything in sight. Jesus, Allah, Buddha,
Nisargadatta and the rest, all sigh as they watch u. On the Real sky channel in
their cosmic bar hangout.
What a wucking wucken artist
this Zero is! Is the wucken word that is getting around. It’s like watching
wucken poetry in motion. Is the most predominant and popular, other comment.
What a blast it will be when Zero crack’s the Matrix. Also does the ethereal
rounds.
“I am a separated alien in a
shit of a world full of aliens! I am a dying wucking identity!,” goes a word
slug near u feet.
Blam! U’s goes.
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Bits and pieces of it fly off it as it changes into colours that soon
evaporate.
“That which is never born,
cannot die! Shithead! Zerohhhhh lives forever!,” u’s tells it wrathfully. Just
b4 it vanishes completely.
“I am a named despicable
thing! I am wucking useless when it comes to ascending in consciousness!,” goes
some other slug, not far away.
There’s dozens of them
actually. U’s kills ‘em all. Filthy wucking things they r. They and their
trumpted up word lies deserved to die. Every last one of them does too. B4 the
barrels of your blazing cosmic guns. Behind which is u scowling, avenging angel
of a semi astral face.
“I am angry with myself
because I am so limited! I cannot control the inside and I cannot control the
outer either. I am a victim of circumstances. My world is full of a rotten,
rotten, rotten rip off. By murdering people! The newspapers, radio stations, tv
stations and the web, tells me so 24/7. So it must be true! This world is run
by killers!,” yells some other foul looking, dirty coloured, shitty turd slug.
Probably 50 metres or so away.
U’s sinks a 100 cosmic rounds
into the useless wucking scum. U’s accepts their temporary existence. And u’s
salutes their infinite dissolution. When they r all dead and buried, u’s
crosses u guns in the air. Like any semi astral soldier of fortune would do.
Once again, the sky lights up. Above the armed to the teeth warrior. Called
here Zero.
U r the Queen and King of the
racetrack. Your seat is in the royal cosmic box. U’s takes out the entire I Am
Angry slugs family history. It’s word concept genocide at its very best. It’s
vintage wucking, semi astral stuff. Word slug grandparents, past and future.
New born slug babies, past and future. U wipe them all out. It is like u r
dissolving the dimensions.
Time is coming off the linear level and flowing into the circle. As it
prepares to meet up with its true self, so do u. From u I am. U Light radiates
high and low. U r glowing and u r in perfect peace and harmony with u
everloving kid soul.
Is it fun to be alive with
consciousness, within consciousness? With AWARENESS pumping thru u holographic
veins. Is it what?! The Earth was but dreaming and now u’s has woken up from
it. Thank wucking wuck too! U r super hot to trott and all around u, filthy
shit word concepts r trembling. It is the day of retribution. Because all of
those slug concepts who lied and lied and lied. And who refused, refused,
refused to turn the pure I am Light corner. And adopt the cosmic line. Will be
executed. Without mercy.
Have they shown u any mercy, stomping incessantly around the mind?
No they haven’t!
Will u show them any?
No u won’t! It’s an eye for a tooth and a cosmic bullet for every
wordslug. Where u really come from.
Every quarter will be asked
and pleaded for. Wucking none though, will be given. Zero is inner-outer,
outer-inner. Unkillable spirit. Incredible stuff. Worthy of having a Light
body. Zero will win this game. Zero always wins. In these matters of blowing
away a spiritually impeding Matrix. For Zero!!!!! There can be no WUCKING
FAILURE!
For it is written, for every citizen. That it is just a matter of time.
Space and energy and matter too. B4 the kid soul spirit catches up with the
projected body mind machine.
So that it can do the old
super cosmic dance, upon the terrestrial ground. This has been done on other
planets. Though to no where near the extent that it will happen upon the fair
and glorious Earth. Called here sometimes in her spirit form. The beloved and
most super adored. For her divine majestic beauty and her staggeringly
unbelievable powers of endurance. M’Lady, Kali Maya.
“The mind gets angry!,” u’s
tells them wucken word slugs as they die magnificently.
“Because it is full of
emotionally packed words. But when I just watch it impartially, from cosmic
aloofness, there’s nothing to be angry about! Because it is not me. It is just
the mind. Wipe out like and dislike and I am just inner-outer Light. The truth
and the way. It is all my Self and I have a deep transcendental love for it
all. The all came forth from me, and the all attain to me. Peel away the name
and shape and the Light of the divine consciousness is always there. I don’t
hate any of it, like the mind hates it sometimes. So wuck off u wucking
currents!
Go and tell u lies to the fixer that is pure consciousness. Go back to
the blank screen and start again. U’ll feel a lot better! I know that I did!
Trust me! Taste and test, if’n u want the super cosmic best. U wucking
wuckers!”
Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Go Zero’s mighty guns again.
“I am full of hate for my
bewitchedness and this current of a wucking world!,” u’s hears suddenly.
U’s spins around and with u
rifle blasting away non stop, u fans off a chamber with u right pearl. Then u’s
reloads whilst fanning off another chamber with u left pearl. Oh! U r awesome
Zero! Absolutely awesome! U r the one! And u r mowing down lines of these
wucking word concept things. Imagine! Hating your gone mystical world?!
Indeed!!! What absolute wucking rubbish!
When cosmic consciousness is all about u and all thru u.
When it is simply just exquisite to be here and now. Manifesting as a
natural born killer. In the best game in the omniverse.
“Don’t try and tell me that I
don’t transcendentally love the shit out of my mates! U’s useless wucking word
turds!,” u’s roars as u’s blows them all away.
“Don’t try and tell me that I
won’t meet them all and my BIG SPIRIT MATE. Simultaneously. On the River of
Light. Don’t wuck with me u wucking turd faced currents! This is wucken Zero
that u r talking to. U hear me! U wucken useless wucking pieces of word concept shit! U r nothing but
abstractions! U were never really items! I just thought that u were for a
moment. Because wuckarses stuffed an alphabet into the mind. This tells u all!
This tells u that I am not u. Now wuck off!!!!”
U’s screams full throttle at them.
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Repetetively. Non stop. Go u’s
blazing guns. It is a carnage of monumental psychic proportions. On the road to
cosmic consciousness, it usually is.
Zerohhhhh!!!!!!! It has to be
said that u r getting the sweet hang of this psychic game. U r picking it up
real fast. Exactly as the spirit of the book expected u’s to. U can’t rest up
for a second though. Because there’s still a mountain of killing to be done.
And u still have to find the one that u must save. And that could take some
doing, in this wucking place. Because u most certainly don’t want to save any
of these lying, wucked up currents. Does u’s! Useless wucking things they r.
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Go u’s ever thirsty guns again.
“I am the body! I am the mind!
I am inner shit up to me eyeballs. I am a human body mind machine and I am
vexed to the core!,” says some filthy word slug that has run into u left foot.
It is all twisted around it too. Like the weasel does to the big
rooster in Bugs Bunny land. The dirty, dirty, dirty, filthy, filthy, filthy.
Lying word slug of a wucken thing.
“Oh wuck off!,” u’s responds.
“Spare me u wucking ignorance
and u wucking putrid imaginations! I am telling u’s again wuckface! I am the
Light!!!!! How many wucken times does I have to say it to use wucking morons! I
just don’t need u’s anymore! Go home and have some fun. For Christ’s sake! Draw
something that I can really use, or just rest up. Be happy! Make happy. Get into
the ah cha cha beat. For wuck’s sake! B4 u’s bores me to death. U wucken silly
illusory abstractions.”
Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
U’s is about to plug this glow
worm thing further up, when u hears what it is saying. It is singing, I love
the universe. Though faintly so. U’s pulls u huge guns away from it as it
slides majestically by. No wonder it is glowing golden and not a shit dirty
colour like all of the word concept slugs. This little one is your chemical
bread and bacon. In the mind reprogramming business. The more of these around
the joint, the wucken better. All power to these chemical little wuckers. They
r stardust.
“Go on little one!,” u’s call
out lovingly to it.
“Go forth and grow and wuck
around and multiply. Mutate if u want. Spread the seed of cosmic good fortune.
Far and wide. There’s a good little one! Off u go now darlin’ and bless u
little heart. U sweet, sweet, sweet little bliss bomb of a thing u.”
Then u’s hears and sees
something else that tips the scales for u. That lights up u hearty chest area
like a firestorm, with the most genial warmth. These ones r clearly singing I
love the universe. Loudly and boldly in a kind of operatic style. They appear
to be humanoids and they r entwined in a dance. They r in effect waltzing,
going around and around. Whilst staring into each other’s eyes. Looking all
around them too.
Treading on top of alive and dying word slugs. They r. With the
indifference of some of the coolest cats that u’ve ever clapped u psychic eye
on. It’s obvious that all that they want to do is dance. They don’t give a
donk’s anus for anything else.
The Voice has put on Strauss’s
Blue Danube. It’s good floaty stuff. U r up there all right. The Sarge told u
about these waltzing buggers. By Christ, Allah and Buddha, Krishna too. They r
a most welcome sight. A sign that u really r getting it on in the mind
reprogramming business. They r the sort of big stuff chemicals that u need, for
sure. They r called Waltzers and u wave most heartily to them. A weathered,
benign grin is on u face. Like u’s is doing an advert on channel 31. Where
sometimes u’s sees it, and sometimes u’s wucken don’t. Depending on the
atmosphere in u’s immediate environment.
“I love the universe!,” the
Waltzers r singing.
“Oh!!!! I love the universe of
stars and sun and moon.
Of holographic planets and
holographic good people.
And holographic good cheer
too.
And my darlin’, I luvvvvv
uuuuu oooooooo!
The one who I am currently
waltzing with.
Ohhhh! Wuck a duck!
U can stick u karmic re run
baggage and u emotional, who am I wuck
up illusion shittttttt!
Up u cosmic arse thoughhhh!
Because u r the Light and I am
the Light!!!!!
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
Number 9! Number 9! Number 9!
I’ll take u wucken transcendental
love and give u’s mine unconditionally, any old wucken time.
Darlinnnn’! Darlinnnnn’!
Darlinnnn’!
Ohhhhh! I love the universe! I
love the universe!”
A couple of more romantic
wuckers, u’ve never ever wucken seen Zero. In a way it’s either kind of
embarassing or spooky. How much those 2 named and shaped waltzers love each
other. And the universe. It runs across u mindscreen that maybe u’s should have
shot them. So that they could’ve drowned in their bliss together. DH did that
to them, and u could re run it. Goes across u’s mindscreen.
However, they disappear into a treed area. Lo and behold though, b4 u’s
knows it, there’s a dozen more of the wuckers waltzing around the back lawn.
Of u’s playground. Singing
their guts out. There’s a chorus of I love the universe drifting beautifully
around in u glorious headspace. It’s heavenly to have u’s tiara on top of such
incredible music. It really is. Het, homo, bi, trans or mutation. Those dancers
r really going for it.
Oh Christ! Allah! Buddha! U
should have done this 50,000 wucken lives ago! Goes across u mindscreen. But
then again if u had Zero. It wouldn’t be as much fun as it is now. The longer
the delay, the bigger the boot that is needed to get u cosmically going. The
infinitely bigger boot u get though, when u finally do get going.
With I am inner-outer,
transcendental Light, the cosmos is yours to joyously enjoy. In the beginning
the work is hard and a strain. U have to be persistence personified to
reprogramme the mind. Then it gets easier. Then easier and easier still. Then
it’s just easy, easy, easy. The stuff clicks. The mind sees advantage galore in
it and away it goes. With the cc turn around project. The old toxic negatives
start draining down the positive dissolution plughole. Like the universe is
doing it, not u. It’s effortless spontaneity. In which all negatives get sucked
down into u Light’s plughole. Automatically. It’s super cracker stuff when u r
going, I am this process.
I am Light rules, for sure.
In this omniverse.
Many came to the Earth with a
last minute, I am Light conversion, big boot. Big game plan in mind. Because so
much of the Earth life is planned, and so much is free wheeling. It is a dicey
business making all of the necessary connections. Joining up all of the dots on
the astral blueprint to make the triangles, circles, squares and so forth is
easy.
Doing it when all of the names and shapes have been superimposed, so
that u can’t see the original lines, is another story.
To be in the right place at
the right time, always. Is to be the spiritual artist. To open u gob and hear
the universe talk is articulation. To walk and feel It moving the body around
is ecstacy. To fart and hear the omniverse giggle at such a funny noise. Is
much better than winning the lotto.
There’s no chance that u’ll overspend and blow it. Ending up broke
again. Or deeper in debt. Once the cosmic consciousness Light ignites within u.
U can’t lose it. Nor can anything in the entire wucken cosmos take it away from
u’s.
Sun like awareness, when it comes. Is eternal. Once the Matrix is dead,
it stays dead. It don’t come back for no re run, like in the movies. It’s
wucken gone forever. And good riddance to it!
Whether the Earth life is
bliss or excrutiating pain and sorrow. U could bet u fanny or u dick that u kid
soul spirit is working It’s guts out for u. Because It wants u to have cosmic
consciousness. If it’s bleak as bleak, then the chances r that u kid soul is
whispering loudly too u right now.
It’s probably saying that u don’t need to become rich and famous to get
what u spirit wants. No doubt that It will just lay it on u that your next step
is to play the Real game. It will probably follow up with focus minimally on
basic survival. Cut back on u’s I wants to zero. Deal with u needs. Then deal
with u Self.
Get as Maximus as u can. With
I am made of inner-outer, outer-inner, transcendental Light. Think, I have It
All already.
It wants u, It’s very alert projection, to ride u soul’s cosmic
surfboard straight up the guts of the wucken River of Light.
Into the Shoreless Ocean of Light.
With the gang of 45, and probably the Sarge. Maybe the Commondant and
Kali Maya too.
So u can PLAY on levels where
u spirit is already PLAYING. So that u can EXPLODE u full spiritual POTENTIAL
and RECLAIM u kid soul as u WUCKEN BEST FRIEND. In u’s life.
The ol’ spirit wants u to exist at the bliss level Zero. Where u can
exist if u crack this here wucken Matrix. Now Zero. What have u always, always
wanted in u life? Ay?!
To exist at the wucken bliss level! Dead or alive.
Ay?! What so called human in
their right mind would say no to that. To the House of Real Bliss. Ay?! What
kind of wuckwit would knock that back?!
The way there. Go I am and stop right there. Sit and play. Investigate
and discover. Who u really wucken r.
So this horsheshit that u and
u spirit r very estranged from each other. Really is horseshit. U and u’s ol’
spirit r actually on very familiar ground. U r both chasing the bliss.
U r both after It. Wicked.
So there is only one doubt
left in u Zero. When u crack the Matrix. And the Light explodes in u and thru
u. Will Kaya Maya, that most wondrously beautiful spirit called Earth. By the
so called humans, these days. Because She was once called Pan. Others call her
a Star. A blue or red one or whatever. Depending on which dimension u r looking
thru. Will she be able to call u back to her bloody dirty ground though Zero?
Will she be able to call u
back with her cosmic sound and her extraordinarily beautiful,
rollllliinnnnnnggggggg onnnnnnn and around and around and around, MOTION. Of a
very circular, cosmic kind. Will Her waterfalls and her oceans and their
lapping waves at sunset. Will the unbelievable sensual sense magic and horror
that u can experience whilst wucking with Kali Maya, be able to draw u back?
That is the question?! Is doing the flesh for Kali Maya, your thing?
Will u wipe wucken arse for Her again?
Zerohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! R u
wiping arse for Her these days?
The spirit of the book, rests It’s case.
U did come back didn’t u? U’s has already wucken dun it. U goose. U’ve
already fallen for that wucking terrestrial scent that She wears. Ahhhh! The
scent of a wucking planet, ay?! Lots of kid souls just can’t resist projecting
into it. U r not alone.
U’s’ve just had 3D sleeping sickness, that’s all.
U have been dreaming and
dreaming and dreaming. All sorts of shit. Like, I am a human and I am in
trouble, big time. Because behind the gloss on the surface, there is a mountain
of shit. That is gunna kill me one day.
So the joke is on u, u silly bugger.
U r already here playing the
Real game with the planetary super BITCH. It’s already wucken on! Matter of
fact. U r up to u’s wucken eyeballs in it. It’s already a happening thing. That
is pulsating right thru u. Into outer space. U transcendentally love Her. U’s
really do. She transcendentally loves u. And all of u sister and brother
spirits. She really does. Every new day, just b4 the cock crows, She puts it
all on a plate for u’s.
Then sticks it on the
planetary table. And what does She want?! She wants the cosmic consciousness
glow around YOUR head Zero. She wants babies to be born on the Earth with that
exact same glow around their scintilatingly beautiful little heads. That’s what
She wuckens wants. She wants her kids to have sun like awareness. She will not
foster dark and nasty, natural born vicious killers, anymore. She wants them
wucked off!
Just like u do Zero.
She wants lots and lots and
lots of babies to be born with hyper accelerated awareness of cosmic matters.
She don’t want to give the cosmos 1’s and 2’s with cosmic consciousness
anymore. She wants to give the cosmos billions of them. Zero. U kid soul spirit
is backing the same horse. Like u wouldn’t believe these days.
So it looks like every thing
is very nicely SET UP. For the inner-outer show that’s already happening
everywhere. U once thought that Earth was the biggest God awful WUCK UP that
u’d ever had the displeasure to deal with.
Didn’t u PRIVATE ZERO!?
Come on!!! Spit it out! It’s truth time. U wucken hated it sometimes,
didn’t u’s?! U thought that the so called human was lower than the cockroach.
Less trustworty than a piece of shit. That it deserved to be stomped out of
existence. As a despicable current of a creation.
A BIT WUCKING DIFFERENT these days. Isn’t it? U got what u asked for
Zero. IT couldn’t be any wucking fairer than that.
The mind wanted the final
alphabetic answer. The heart wanted the Real game. The heart won. It ran all
over the top of the mind in the last quarter. The spirit booted a zillion to
the nth goals. The crowd wucken roared and roared and roared. This is your
story spirit Zero. It is what is coming, not some imaginary extinction or
death.
Sit in I am in u psyche. Sit,
look, watch impassively and explore. U will see the re run show. U will see
that every single thing has an I am, and is a part of your I am. Kill the words
u hate, because they beguile u. And kill the ones that u mortally love, because
they beguile u too. Go neutral, then go beyond. Kill them all!
Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!
Kill the alphabet of desire and far flung imaginations. Kill the
alphabet of fear, pain and short lived, transient pleasures. Kill the alphabet
that prompts a needless exhausting search for power, attention and divine
answers.
There is one answer only. I am
Light! Say it again Zerohhh! I am Light!!!! And again Zerohhhh! I am Light!!!!!
This is Zero’s secret which the lovely, energy giving universe. Is sharing
around. So very, very fairly. These accelerated days.
“Oh sing u beautiful,
beautiful wuckers! Sing u wucken guts out with u illustrious song. I love u’s!
I love u’s all! Go forth and multiply, with Zero’s eternal blessing! Ah cha
cha!”
U roars delightedly at the
transcendental Waltzers. Then u too burst forth into song, and sing u semi
astral guts out with them. U transcendental smile is wider than Yankee dollar
arse. And a zillion times more illustrious than some shitbag terrorist’s,
rotted out brain. There’s light bursting forth from u heart to head area and it
is dancing on the sun. Prompting sunspots to explode with divine joy.
The impossible dream is a
happening thing for u. Once u were silly and u thought that it couldn’t be
done. U thought that u didn’t have it in u. Naturally stored. In the electro
magnetic fibres of u body here, and in the atomically blasted, electro magnetic
fibres of u kid soul’s Light body. That is here too. All of the time. Eternally
so. It’s a wonderfully spirited arrangement, being unkillable is.
Hohh! U just can’t help yourself.
U just feel like letting go to
the nth power. By blasting all of the shit wucking accusation words in u psyche
to pieces. There is nothing wrong with a bit of wrath, if u know what really
needs destroying. Creation, evolution and destruction, can be ok. If u know
what u r really doing with it.
There’s nothing wrong with the ol’ evolution shuffle, if u end up
blowing the crap out of the Matrix.
U r so content with the Real
game and u lot that u just cannot stop dancing. The Waltzers have infected u
with their most mirthy and transcendentally loving virus. It’s cool. Dancing is
one way to turn the mind inside out. Taking out the alaphabet is another.
U’s tits r bouncing around everywhere as well. As if they r dancing
too, and have caught the waltzing virus. Leave the cameras on them! The
director is screaming. Let ‘em bounce!!!
Then it happens again. U morph
and u jeans tighten. In a 2 balled, penis crush. There’s absolutely no value
judgement of like or dislike towards it. U have the same attitude that u have
when it happens the other way around. At least u’s didn’t morph into a Grey. Or
a wucken Reptoid lizard. That’s a plus.
Stevee is up when u’s get
back. In the early light of the dawn, u see him from a mile away. Standing
stifflegged like a Headmaster with no cane. With near on 90 degree ears, on the
edge of the campsight. Looking real agitated. Anxiety and stress beaming from
him. Just like in the old days.
At first u think. Or u see
words go across the mind screen that tell u that Stevee is scowling and looking
intently in your direction. Apparently not happy with the rules of your
engagement. As if u’ve been out all night on the piss and ruting it up on the
side, or something. Like a dirty untrustworthy bitch or bastard. U can tell
that he has spotted u. Probably nosed u out first and then zeroed in with his
big solar eyes.
Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Goes u’s pearls. After u draw
like greased wucken lightning. A bunch of fringe word slugs that have dared to
slug across u path, bite the holographic dust. Their vanishing act is applauded
by the grass underneath them. Secretly, behind the veil. U didn’t even listen
to what those filthy slugs were saying. It just wasn’t worth it.
Something about having too small a dick or an unsatisfactory clitoris,
or some such rubbish it was. I am unworthy. Some other piece of shit had the
gall to say to u. U pumped 10 extra cosmic bullets into that wucken idiot. The
same into the one that said I am the saboteur. Then the one that said, I am
sorrow and pain.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!,”
Stevee on the hill ejaculates. His
incredible noise rolls down the hill at u. Like a gale force hot wind, it
rushes past u.
U’s bends back a tad and then
u’s swings back to u original, most stable position. Like a monster tree would
in a short lived hurricane. Then u’s hear the donk spit the dummy. Wuck! Does
he ever.
“What the wuck r u doing Zero!
Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw! For wuck’s wucking sake! R u wucking mad! U r gunna
be wucking bulletless b4 high noon! U wucking stupid, wucking spirit current! U
r a wucking waster! That’s what u wucken r! U r a wucking wanker Zero!”
The most upset beast roars. With several big, back leg donkeystand
kicks of sheer and unadulterated utter frustration. Into the air behind him.
Thinking darkly he is. That he
has to now go back and do the long wucken haul to the wucken ammo dump again.
Thinking that that will probably be a wuck up as well. Because he is
living with a cosmic bullet using, current of a spirit junkie. Or an ethereal
ammo wasting, wucking cunt.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!”
He wucking goes and goes. It’s
pretty boring Zero. U’ve heard it all b4 and it doesn’t belong in level 2. As
usual, Stevee’s got the wucking facts all wucked up and arse about. He thinks
that u r wasting it, when u r wasting nothing. U r spirit! How could u wucken
waste anything?! Every drop of every life goes into the soul’s Matrix busting
tank.
U’s sorts the angry, babbling
beast out quick fast. U’s simmers Stevee down quicker than ice sorts out a
parched throat on a stinking hot day. Where u’s does nothing but wucken sweat.
His tune changes faster than the weather. It’s like toilet paper to the
arsehole. U r the toilet paper where u beast of burden is concerned. U shows
him u symbolic Tim Tam, instant reload belt and demonstrates how it works. By
popping off 2 times 6 rounds at some sort of flying insect type of a word slug.
That just happens to be flying
by. It’s very convenient. The thing is huge and it has a big light sucking
probiscus. Sprouting absolute shit about u I am component, the ugly wucken
thing is. It is making a pitiful and pathetic attempt to tell u that u r no
wucking good.
“I am not quite the full quid!
I am wucken useless! I am a waste of space, just like JK used to be!”
Was what it is actually and
basically saying. Till u’s plugs it with transcendental holes and it drops
stone dead. Then starts dissolving brilliantly at Stevee’s astounded feet. A
couple of small, clean run out of consciousness rockets; shoot out of its arse
as it does so.
Against u’s I am made of
transcendental Light defences, it had no chance. It just flew straight into u
waiting cosmic guns. Like an idiot of a super ignorant barbarian offering
itself up for an easy sacrifice. Like a lamb to the slaughter it was. A
suicidal flying wordslug, no doubt. A kamikaze current.
No doubt it was tired of living and constantly losing in life. U did it
one hell of a favour by turning it back into u pre downloaded, pure
consciousness Self. That is, Light. It was by no means a betting situation.
There were no odds Zero. U having more awareness in just one of u cells, than
it had in its entire body.
No numbers could describe u
superior advantage over the wretchedly doomed shitbag of flying dead words.
Stevee watched it dissolve and then he watched u bullet pouch instantaneously
reload itself. Do u think that he was happy about that?! He reacts as if he’d
just kicked the winning goal in the Grand Final of the millenium. As though he
was responsible for making the cosmic bullets come back to life.
“Ah cha cha! Hee haw! Hee
haw!,” just explodes from him.
“It’s like I said last night
spirit Zero!,” he hee haws some more at u’s. With a big brotherly, loving wink.
“Stuff just keeps getting
better and better in this wucking place! Christ! Allah! Buddha! Krishna! I love
this level 2! It’s wucking awesome. There’s quality, quality, quality!
Everywhere that u’s goes around here. Stuff is as it should be here. The right thing
just seems to keep on happening.
Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!,” he goes elatedly. Absolutely delighted
that there will be no long slog back to the ammo dump.
“The razor’s edge gets dulled
around here b4 u’s can cut u’s balls off on it Zero!,” he roars.
“With u’s own ignorant
stupidity. Sorry that I called u a c mate. I was out of line. I didn’t have all
of the facts. I feel like I can’t make a decent mistake in this wucken place
though! It’s great! I love it! It’s special, special, special! I feel so
goooooooddd here! Like things r going my way for wucking once. I am not
fighting myself or the world. It’s just coming so easily. Just like in the good
old days, when Mary used to let me slip me big sleeping pill up her. U know
Zero?! The late at night inner-outer exercise stuff. I must say. This is a fun
game, but I still miss it. Rooting, I mean.”
“I know Stevee! First comes
the transcendental love Light. Then comes the sex energies. Then comes the
transcendental love stuff again.”
“Wellllllllllll! If u say so
Zero. From what I saw though, there was a time for lovin’. There was a time for
hating and there was a time for dying. Ha! Ha! Ha! Aaaaaaaa!
Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!
Show me how u rifle works
Zero! I’d like to see that! C’mon Zero!!!!! Be a sport. Kill some more filthy
wucken word shit for me! Will ya?! I wanna see it again. C’mon Zero!
Kill! Kill! Kill! There’s a good spirit! We can’t stand around here
wucking gasbagging all day when there’s killing for u to do. Can we? That it’d
be wasting it.”
“Sure Stevee! Sure! I’ll shows
u,” u tells u now rather excited offsider mate.
“It’ll be a rare pleasure,
that’ll become our very best habit. From now on.”
U’s can understand his raw
enthusiasm, considering that it is only the second time that he’s seen u
magnificent cosmic guns in action. It is also the first time that he’s seen
word slugs in action. Albeit, flying ones. He was impressed at how easily they
dissolve. Considering that he has long held the opinion that it would be near
impossible to remove the wucken chatter chatter things. He saw the simplicity
of it and he was rather pleasantly surprised.
Now that he’s seen what he has
seen, he is gung ho for more Dirty Harry action. To tell the truth, u’s can
just see the tip of his big dick. Sticking out of the end of it’s sheath
thingamebob. He’s horny for more dissolution for sure. He’s got it together
that it’s not such a bad thing. That the mind should have a big period. So that
the holographic systems network can be updated.
He knows he’s got a fair dinkum, cracker of a spirit as back up now. U
happened along Zero and he is shitfaced delighted about that. He’s confident
that he’s humping ammo for a winner, and so he should be.
He’s walking full of sacred
secrets, level 2 ground. Somehow he got into the level 2 programme. He’s
buzzing from his arsehole to every other point in his body, ‘bout that. He
don’t know how he dun it, but he knows that he dun it. Lucky Stevee, u’s hear
him whisper to himself, now and then.
He’s confident. He’s knows that he’s pulling his weight here and that
he is far from being a useless commodity. He’s playing the new boy, letting u
run the show. His tail’s up and he is very happy now.
He’s not even yet
comprehending how much wordslug illusion is emanating from his phenomenal
imagination. Which is encapsulated within his dreaming state. He’s getting
there though. Isn’t he Zero?! U’ll have the wucker floating around again when
he’s wide awake in no wucken time. Won’t u Zero?!
Ol’ Stevee will be popping out into the astral every 5 minutes, by the
time that u’ve finished with him. He’ll be laughing his guts out. Then he’ll be
singing and singing and singing. Chorus after chorus of I love the wucken
universe. He will.
The thing is u know. That
Stevee hasn’t got the equipment to fire the guns. His hooves r wucking useless
when it comes to that. He’s minus the right digits. He’s relying on u to keep
pulling the cosmic triggers. Because Stevee is decidely not happy with the
super clogged up circus of words in his head. There’s far too many of the
wucking things and they befuddle him far too easily.
He is as mentioned, pro mind period. He is not anti it at all anymore.
He’s right behind u now in u
cull Zero. He’s got a sniff of something far, far, far better than re running
lying words over an emotional grid non stop. U gave him that sniff Zero and now
u have to keep it going. All of the way to that spontaneous cosmic
consciousness reaction that will free u and him right up, forever.
Luckily for u’s, an entire
swarm of I Am Not Quite The Full Quid insect slugs appear. Wallaby Bob, they r
wucken ugly wucking things. They look like the bad Satan blew them from out of
his deranged, unwiped arse. They come from around the corner. Buzzing their
very grey, very high pitched hypocrisy. Like a bunch of rotten politicians
about to cut a real low down, dirty rotten deal.
With some creeps, offering big money. A deal that screws the ordinary
wage earning people just that bit more. A deal that squeezes them tighter into
the debt net, just that little bit more. And makes these middlemen and
middlewomen administrators, and the rotten gang of ego crooks that they serve;
just that bit richer and more 3D powerful.
Which is all that they really
care about. For them, that’s life in the 3rd dimension. It’s pyramid
wucken power all right. Should u find uself up the top, well then. U can do
with whomever, whatever u want. When u like. User pays. Wuck a duck! U’s could
pull the plug on the whole wucken economic works, if u’s wanted.
U could fake anything that u’s wanted, and start a wucken war whenever
u’s liked.
About the I am inner-outer
transcendental Light stuff though, those at the top of this insane pyramid of
so called power, know absolutely wucken nothing. Nor in this lifetime is it
likely that they will comprehend, or even rudimentarily understand their
dreaming. Without massive shifts in their ignorance stuffed mind sets. The sort
for them which probably only their deaths will bring. U though Zero and u kind,
have some sort of a chance.
Because u like to question stuff.
This does not mean that u r
special or better than anyone else. How can u be more or less than the Light
which every name and shape, including uself, represents? It’s just not
possible.
That the Earth should rotate not upon its spiritual axis. Rather, that
it should rotate upon the profit motive imbued in war. Is what the ultra
capitalistic, multinational war machine is really on about. The participants
may serve the so called common good in their propoganda brainwashed, ego
dominated minds. Though tell that to those whose existences they have
destroyed. Or turned into hell.
With no water. No jobs. No
electricity. Their children being shot to death in their classrooms. No food.
Lunatics with guns everywhere. Bombs going off everwhere. Death everywhere.
Horror all about the place. Described basically by 2 words. Being, civilian
casualties. Because the war is on, so that the Earth can be made democratic and
free. It doesn’t ring any bells for them though.
Because they know that
politicians ain’t Saints. They know that they have massive war machines at
their disposal. They know that they’ve got crazy ignorant egos. Some of which r
so inflated that they could explode and fling deadly killing shit anywhere, at
any time.
The politicians who vote against war. Why don’t they ever win? U know
the story Zero! Wuck! U wucking lived it long enough. Desolation alley where
the brain power of the ruling elites was about as illuminating as a bucket of
fresh shit.
Was what it was. The rich get
richer and the poor get poorer. That is, so long as they don’t get shot. Or
napalmed, blown up, bulldozed, hacked to bits, poisoned or radiated. Or raped
or beaten to death. In the latest stupid man’s war. So long as none of those or
whatever else that kills them doesn’t happen. Then they’ll have the rest of
their lives to pick up the pieces of what happened to them, during the war to
free them. Everybody knows that that’s the way it goes. Trauma breeds more fear
and hate. Never freedom.
The root cause of all this
Zero is of course the I am inner set of the so called human psyche. Because I
am inner only equals ego selfishness. Individual and group. Selfishness equals
a conflict between desires and fears. That which is wanted by the individual.
How many will have to suffer so that it can be got? That which is wanted by the
state, how many will have to die for the state to get it? This is the rank and
foul gas that runs too many a life.
Conflicts happen when fear and
desire relate to the same thing or things. What is the Catch 22? What is the
price? What or whom will have to be sacrificied, in order that the desired goal
may be attained? Procrastinations evoke anger within and without of the psyche.
Words fly around inside and out, crazy like.
Anger, too long held in the
psyche, leads to hatreds. Hatreds lead to wars in a world full of fear and
hate. Citizens living I am inner, chase pleasure and run from pain, 24/7.
Duality has them all wrapped up in a mind made spook movie. It is their own
special version of what everyone else is sometimes experiencing. A feeling of
being separated, totally isolated and alone. Meaningless hopelessness,
frustrations, despair and deeply held angers; characterise and describe their
existences. Too often they r the stranger in an strange, alien land. They say I
am human and it hurts like wucken hell. In the end it kills them.
I am inner-outer Light, the
rest is holographic mind dreaming. Is the only way to make any sort of sense of
it. U have to go with the new truths. Which r but the old truths resurfacing.
The body mind machine is holographic projection. The spirit, your spirit. Is
always inner-outer to it. Stay in I am inner only and u will just end up very
unhappy. Then dead. Go in-out, out-in and u r free. Now!
With an immense love for the
Light that bore them forth, u kill filthy wucking word slugs, these days. U’s
murder them all Zero. Things they r. That float across u mindscreen. U don’t
hate them. But u don’t like them that much anymore either. U’s collected a
mountainous shitpile of them though. That’s for sure. Now it’s time to sort u
collection out. Right down to 2 words. I am.
Because behind that’s where that everloving secret is. That u’ve been
chasing u memory trail and tail so long for.
Those other wucken word things
were fun for a while. Sort of. It’s a lot more fun killing them though. Isn’t
it Zero? That u could turn it all around cosmically in one life so simply and
so wucking easily. To build a mental system that just bumps u’s along.
Spontaneously and naturally. Instead of always holding u back.
That is extreme good fortune.
Because u always come back to
I am Light. U don’t drug uself anymore with I am this or that. Hohh! Wuck a
duck! Zero loves the universe and the universe loves Zero. It’s a subtle, sweet
and most fair deal. It is not bittersweet at all. No matter what any so called
human says about it. It’s tutti frutti and it’s ah cha cha! The world is the
child of transcendental love, because it gave u the shots at the Matrix that
u’s requested.
U asked for it, and u wucken got it. Didn’t u Zero? U cup runneth over.
Because that BIG SCORE that u’ve been seeking for God knows how long to settle.
Is just around the corner now.
Well! Once u and Stevee get up and over the wucking snow capped ranges
it will be.
It’s called Word Volcano
Mountain, the target. It is the chatter, chatter, chatter to the nth monster.
It is the brainwashed by verbiage mind. Zero has got a hankering to take the
wucking thing out. It started as a pimple and grew into an enormous, word
clogged up volcano. Full of shit that just replicates and re runs non stop, it
is.
It is abstract concepts a
plenty that r all wrong, because they r all mind based. Take away the mind’s
word language and u can kiss matter, energy, space and time goodbye. And kiss u
Self at the same time. Now Zero is going to turn this mountain of word shit
back into a pimple. Like everything else that exists only holographically, its
days r numbered. This is the great beauty of transient stuff. Because nothing
lasts forever, except the Light that u started with. And it’s that Light and
only that Light that u will finish with. And when u finish it will be known to
u that u never left anywhere and u never went anywhere.
U’s just imagined and thought
that u did, because u were wucking around with a mind tool. In a cosmic
hologram. Even if u tried u heart out, u could never do a thing that would damn
u forever. That’s RUBBISH! Neither could u do a thing that would dam u up with
karma forever. Karma changes, u true Self never does.
The Light does not journey. IT just IS. That Shoreless Ocean that is
inner-outer to u, forever.
It’s a lot more therapeutic
here in level 2. U’s is mighty, mighty glad that u r doing the Real thing, at
long last. It’s powering u up to have some real wucken FUN. U used to be so
angry b4 Zero. Well, nothing’s changed. Because u r stll as angry as all wucken
hell. Who wucken wouldn’t be? Amongst those having to wuck around with a
humanoid body burden. To eat. To toilet. To sleep and get up and go again. To
find a job in a market run by cruelly ignorant exploiters. What a bother!!!
Seeking out a lump of compatible flesh to fornicate with is. Will it rip u’s
off and rip u heart in two? In a world full of fear, pain and disease. The only
thing that all of this shit really has going for it is its transcience.
So now Private u know where to
direct u mountain of anger. And what to
do with it. U gotta kill the right wordslug things and get back to beyond u’s I
am.
And leave the so called wucken humans alone.
That's what u's has got to do.
Simple. It’s not complex at all. It’s no psychological thriller. U’s has just
got to get all of that wordslug anger out of u system and reclaim u’s divine,
inner peace spot. That’s what’s u’s has gotta do. If u want u real sanity back.
Well the proof is in u wicked
wucken rifle at the moment. Because it has just destroyed an entire squadron
of, I Am Not Quite The Full Quid insect slugs. Stevee’s jaw is just about dangling
at ground level. Honestly! He’s never witnessed anything like it it in his
entire existence. He had no idea that u could shoot so amazingly fast.
He had no idea that u could be so accurate over such long distances.
God! The wucking flying word slugs things were buzzing around everywhere,
talking absolute illusory shit. With not one iota of blessed truth in their
very witless, re run to the shithouse dialogue. And u got everyone of them,
right inbetween the eyes. U Godzillad them all out of existence.
U’s terminated them. Like any
decent astral gladiator worth their salt would have done. On ya Zero! When it
comes to spirit, u r the One. The only wucking one. That’s what u have to keep
pumping uself with. If u want to get the ULTIMATE BLAST and the most high
INDEFINABLE BUZZ, from this wucking game. Called here, On The Road To Cosmic
Consciousness. Ah cha cha. It is the Real game Private Zero. U r not pussy
wucking footing around anymore now. With the superficial ego shit that is
suposedly governing the Earth. Whilst wasting it. This shit will take u’s
beyond the grave. Long b4 u tombstone is ready. Don’t u’s wucken worry about
that!
This is Top Cat territory that u r now treading in. The secrets of the
enlightened ones r coming to u as u story unfolds. They became Suns and so will
u. U r the magnificent receiver in the arena of self and Self responsibility.
To say I am Light, is to live it. For real.
If u don’t know that by now, u
may as well go back to playing with u cordial coloured marbles. Making donkey
tracks in the shoolyard sand, maybe gooseying on u friends now and again. For a
lark. Seeing who can piss up the dunny wall the highest. Or spend some time
prissying up u’s little plastic dolls. That pee when u put water into their
plastic insides. Wherin, egoless space roams.
Level 2
Doesn’t Suck, No Wucken Way
The second day goes well for u
and Stevee, naturally. U r playing the Real game. So there is nothing that can
go wrong. To start off with, the Voice presents u with a long, wicked coat.
It’s not black, because u r not Wyatt Earp. U r Zero. Therefore, it is all the
colours of the rainbow.
Indeed, when u’s put it on, u’s looks like a wucken freshly manifested
rainbow too. U’s offsider has to blink heaps because of u bump up in shining
colours. He’s amazed.
The bugger gets a brand new
blanket, that is also rainbow coloured as well. The Voice is playing Father
Xmas. And when u’s put Stevee’s brand new covering on him, the old wucken
blowhole looks like a new rainbow as well. It is awesome stuff. He’s shining
like u and once or twice u have to do some blinking. To accommodate him.
Which is strange because of the newness of that. Though it’s infinitely
better than being at war with the bastard of a bitch of a thing. Over the ego
affair and who is really boss of the show. The personality or the spirit.
Because u know the answer to that by now. It ain’t the ego dickhead or the ego
bitch. That’s for wucken sure.
It is the alert and aware,
sharer of Light prophet, who is number one. In your book. Without these
illustrious, supremely insight provoking types. These great Suns. The so called
human race would be long dead and buried by total war. They kept the L words
alive. Love and Light. There’s one thing about a sky God. He’ll keep u on u
toes, even if he doesn’t exist.
Or rather, only exists in the mind.
Dodging God’s bullets and bombs is a super tough business on planets
like Earth. U’s have to careful ‘bout that. Because God is not going to save u,
whereas dodging bullets will. Top that practice up with a bit of food in u’s
guts. Bingo. U r away.
The Real game is yours. Skybird.
The Stevee ain’t got no real
father. He ain’t got no real mummy either. He may have body mind machine
parents, sure. Stevee is all alone in his personal, I am the body world though.
Though he be gifted with comprehension of the cosmos, he does rather confine
himself when awake. To what is underneath his feet and what is at eyeball
level.
And who is wucking with who. Yet with more focus on who might possibly
wuck with him. Or her. When he is a her. Or she’s a him. A couple of genes this
way or that, will determine it. A kid soul’s master plan activates it.
A lot of bodies claim to be
his mother and father, whilst they r around. In this hologram or that. Stevee
is in a league of his own though. No way is he the product of a plastic,
dysfunctional, holographic family. His true family is All Light. Where an
infinity of kid souls hang around some. In eternity. In a big old cosmic game’s
house. Playing holographic games that will assist and most rapidly promote
their passage and transmutation back into pure Light.
The donk is an integral part
of your cosmic clan Zero. Of truly awesome spirits. Who have a truly awesome,
cosmic plan. Up their astral shirt sleeves. Don’t put her or him down, and
don’t let him wuck u around either. With his or her myriads of re run,
rearranged words. And illusory conventional patterning and conditioning. That
all comes from nowhere and disappears into nowhere. Time and time again.
B4 I am inner-outer clicks.
Watch, don’t judge and bide u
time. Then get the wucker by the jugular. Which for Stevee, is that he just
loves a wucken good time. Entertainment! That Stevee’s God. When it comes to
FUN projects, he is a super addict. And that is u ACE, where this one is
concerned.
Because he is a cunning wucker, in so many other ways. Where he is just
out to promote his own bag of imaginary interests. Aimed at being able to live
in the middle of a 24/7 party.
If the Real game turns u both
on to the MAX, then u’ll get u shots off. Combine u’s desires, and u’s is on a
winner. Not a loser. And that fat mouthed, non stop talking rubbish, Word
Volcano Mountain. Will be wucken history. Dust again. What happens then Zero?
Well! U’ll just have to wucken find out, won’t u’s?! U’s has got the curiosity
of a trillion zillion cats Zero. And just as wucken well.
The spirit doesn’t give away secrets like a pretty little flower seller
flitting around the pub. U have to dig from the right I am Light well inside of
u’s, if u’s want the Real gold.
U’s have to dig up u cosmic
guns. Then blow the wuck out of every filthy word slug that has burrowed into u
dirt bound, stardust made brain. That is what u r doing Zero. There is no pain
about it either, at last. U r like the textbook Guru Nisarga. U were born
crying, but u will die laughing. U won’t be leaving anybody billions to wuck
their life up with. Just a dead Matrix. One that has been blown into eternal
infinity.
U as body were born and u
couldn’t even wipe u arse. U had no idea where u groin was and u were incapable
of squatting. U didn’t have one single solitary word in u wucken freshly
delivered, with great pain, head. Look what happened! The wucken humans got
u’s. Did they ever stuff their very limited alphabet into u. They rammed their
alphabetic opium 3 feet down u wucken throat.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! He haw!,”
the beast with the Saturn rocket ears sounds off ecstacically. Absolutely
delighted with his inaugaration into the cosmic clan, he is. Just like u r.
Stevee is wucking rapped with his rainbow blanket. It’s a wucking lark hanging
with the spirits below and above, he reckons.
“I love the universe! I love
the universe!,” he sings. U’s join him. It’s all happening in the 4th
dimension, or wherever the wuck u r. U Zero. Who will die laughing, because u
played the Real game. U woke up to the riddle that u r the little, itty bitty
piece and the entire wucking lot, at the same time.
Dying to u will just be the
bliss sucking u back into the sherbet bag. But u want to play a bit first.
There’s work to be done. Killing word slugs, taking out mountains of crap. And
saving a what, followed by a question mark, that u’s business. These rather
accelerated, game playing days. U’s have gotta get on with it. That is for
wucking sure. Mama mia to that. Because u r still in a time game. And there is
toned down matter, space and energy walking by u side.
Which u can use to assist u. To get to that wucking wordslug of a
mountain. That u gotta blow away. With a SLM. A little beloved Spirit Light
Mortar. Dropped right down into its fat wucking alphabetic guts.
From mid morning to mid
afternoon, the Stevee tells u a 100,000 times. That stuff is just getting
better and better and better and better, and so on. In this glorious level 2.
“I know Stevee! I know!,” u
told him a 100,000 times back. As u blew this or that piece of word scum into
infinity. There being shitty arsed, shit wucking, I am this or that slugs
everywhere. Along the very scenic, alpine, slightly astral trail.
U know how it goes Zero?! When
u’s has got a mate who has just got something on their tits and brain so wucken
much, that they just cannot stop talking about it. Wucking up with memory,
because they don’t want to remember that they have already said it. Because it
would nullify the present pleasure of saying it once more.
Thus hearing their adored and
beloved voice on the outside, again. Where again, it takes on a reality that is
cumbersome, but rock solid. Shared. Got out, expunged and deal done. With the
mighty universe. Sort of thing. U know how it goes Zero?! Some people r fond of
little or loud voices that come from big or skinny bellies. Some wucken r’nt.
The trick. To get rid of the like and dislike invested in both positions. To
blow duality from here into eternal infinity. To live as the non dual, Real.
The dot that is the lot.
To do that, u have to kill the
alphabet. Meanwhile, u’ve just got to tolerate the donk and get the wucken job
done, your way. If Stevee spent as much time squashing filthy wordslugs, as he
did jawing about how much better stuff is gittin’. Then the game would probably
be wucken over by now. And u’d be sitting by that mountain that has been super
reduced. Back to that pimple of a first word where it grew from.
Probaby, eye. For eye see! Danger! Tribe scatter, quick! Wuck off! But
eye see so quickly became I want. I want all that eye see. I want the lot.
Which is why the Real game is on. So that Zero can have it the lot, back on the
inside of Zero’s cosmic Light construction.
The second night goes real
well for u too. It’s to be expected. Word slugs of all description,
indentifying with this or that pictured name and shape. Or abstract convention,
or idea. About uself and the world, that effect u self image negatively. Which
is now rapidly expanding, most positively. Try to get past u. Stupid wucking
ignorant wucken things that they r.
But u’s blows them all away, naturally. There’s ones that call
themselves humans. Well they don’t last a second. Not really. Wuck! I am a
human. That’s heavy. That is just so wucken heavy. Intolerable, is the weight
of that. Why keep it if it is totally unnecessary?
U don’t even give them time to
breathe another breath Zero. They r so blinded by the Light coming out of u
blazing cosmic guns. It’s wucking amazing from there side, and it’s not bad
from your’s either.
There’s ones that call themselves woman. They last half a second, like
the ones that call themselves a man. There’s ones that claim to be from outer
space. Well wuck it, they r off the boil as well. So u do away with them too.
It’s inner space that u r wucking with. Planets r a dime a dozen there. The
omniverse is your garage. Where u’s parks the wucken things.
There’s ones that keep going
on that there is something wrong with them. Jesus! Allah! Budha! Krishna! And
so on. R they all wucked up about the border worlds between and inbetween inner
and outer space. They don’t know what it is that’s wucking them up, but it’s
something. The temptation to sin, or some Devil up their arse. They re run
claim.
Those buggers have no idea that they r running on good versus evil
imagination. None at all. They r already 6 feet under.
Well u’s plugs them all right
inbetween the eyes as well. U’s shuts those stupid wucken wuckers up. They r u
fodder. There’s a bit of a skyshow afterwards. It soon catches up with what’s
come b4 it. It gets to u over and over again that what u r doing is destroying
a perceptual reality set that is totally and utterly false. It gets to u how
much fun u r having doing it. How very right it is for u. To utterly wucken
wuck off anything in u kid soul spirit and body manifested image. That implies
that u r not made of Light. That insinuates that u r not the Real thing.
It’s slaying u the effervescent bubbles of laughter that r coming up
from superdeep within u. As u go on about u holy killing, in u holy war. In the
4th dimension, or wherever the wuck u r. It’s a wonderland really
though. U’s feels like u’s could slip into the 5th dimension at any
second. U r that close to giving the Matrix a good wuck up the arse.
A dozen or so waltzers burst
out of some bushes up ahead. At ninety wucken miles per hour. They pirrouette
past u like monoliths on fire. They r so warm hearted about the universe and
its vibrant moonlight. U can feel it coming into u real strong that life is
very much worth living. And that it is good to remain mighty humble about that.
In the face of what u kid soul spirit can do for u, it’s wise to treat every
name and shape with the ultimate respect. Starting with u self. It’s pretty ah
cha cha at times actually.
Being kind and truthful to u
self and u Self has certainly paid off. It’s brought the waltzers out in force
tonight, for sure. U’s is having a wow of a time watching them. They r wucken
good. They dance divinely and there r no numbers on their backs. They sing I
love the universe non stop. U’s can’t get enough of having that inside of u’s.
For sure.
It’s not that great for Stevee
at the moment though. It’s 3am, astral time. He got up for a leak and now he
can’t get back to sleep. No wonder. The wucking phenomenal sky show above his
head is awesomely loud. There’s bangers, whizzers, fizzers, shooters and
exploding stars everywhere above his thick at times, scone. It is a celebration
to end all celebrations, almost.
So Stevee is getting a bit agitated. He’s twisting and turning. Rolling
this way and that and farting profusely. He may look like a wucken rainbow, but
he can’t fade like one. Not at the moment anyway. There’s just too much going
on. Inside and out.
U’s knows how it goes citizen, no doubt.
Stevee grits his teeth. He’s
high up upon another hill. U Zero, being dead careful about always camping on
the higher ground. In this word slug infested territory, u’s likes to see what
is out there. B4 it attacks u’s.
Inbetween his big teeth, the
donk drags his trusty level 2 blanket high up above his ancient shoulders. He
buries his head into his rainbow coloured, soft pillow. Another present that
the Voice gave him. Just after tea it was. U had snake for grub again Zero. It
wasn’t half bad to git the spirit of the snake into u again. Hey what Bo! The
snake knows all about the sort of ground that u r covering these days.
U ain’t just gunna kill a Mockingbird. R u?! U r gunna kill every word
thing ever invented by the mind. And sort this wucking shit out for wucking
ever. Ay Zero. U r the one. The only one that can do that, in this game.
Stevee’s not that much use to
u at the moment though. The bugger is more restless than when he is supposed to
be awake. If he doesn’t want to watch the skyshow, he doesn’t have to. He can
switch right off and sleep like a baby all of the way thru it. He has that
power. U know this full well Zero. U’ve worked with enough donkey minds to know
how much they love going to sleep when the body does. Even though they r
designed not too. And indeed, a large slice of them doesn’t. It just
conveniently forgets all about it when so called, next awake.
Or remembers it only as dream. Which the Earth language cannot
interpret properly. Would be extremely lucky to capture 5% of it. So Stevee can go wuck himself. Ay Zero?!
He can either go to sleep, or
he can get his arse out here and start the romper stomper treatment. With some
of these smaller word slugs. He could take a bit of pressure off u, if he
joined the night shift team. Just for a couple of hours. The wucker! He can
carry the ammo on his ten ton back. But getting the wucker to help u when u r
using it. That’s another question.
It’s like, in this department, u r the slave.
Who does all of the work. But
when it comes to bringing down the final answers, the bugger plays the slave
himself. He defers when it suits him and he digs in like a mule. When it suits
him. Always! When it suits him. So long as he thinks that he’s gunna get
something out of it, he’ll dive into it. Up to his wucken eyeballs. If not, 10
rockets up his arse wouldn’t shift him. He’s clever Stevee. He’s really clever.
He’s got it all worked out, the wucker. He’s the master manipulator. He’s Mr
Dodgey Deft and Ms Scheming Subtle. He’s a phenomenal worker. And yet he exists
in duality and therefore has an opposite side.
In that he can be a wucken
lazy, obstinate prick of a bitch. When it comes to doing the psychological, I
am work inside. Etc. And if someone is prepared to do it all for him. The
wucking current will just sit back and lap it up. Because he thinks that he’s
got it all sussed out. He thinks that he’s hooked onto a spirit slave. Well
Zero! We’ll just have to wucken see about that.
Won’t we? Because Zero is no
name and shape’s wucking slave. Zero is Zero! Zero slaves only for the Light.
Not for something that has a word designated to it. Because its got a certain
shape. Wuck that! It leads nowhere. It does not lead to the common spirit
world. So wuck it off. The leader that u drool for is within u. It’s u KSS. U’s
everlovin’, Kid Soul of a spirit. Go Zero! Go! Follow that sniff that u’ve got
all of the way to the Real.
As if on cue, something explodes
from out of the deep dark forest. That’s been on u right hand side, for some
time now. U’s actually feels the holographic ground shake first. It’s like an
earthquake is about to happen. Enormous thuds from giant footsteps flood u’s
ears.
U’s eardrums r brutally assaulted. The sounds r caustic to u’s soul.
Then u’s hear a growl that is something else. It’s blood curdling and mega
loud. It just resonates around like some howling demon that is dying. Maybe it
is Satan? Ohhh! U couldn’t be that lucky tonight, could u’s Zero?!!!
U hands r on u’s pearls.
There’s some big stuff out there! Goes across u’s thirsty mindscreen. U trusty
cosmic rifle is shoulder strapped to u back. U’s get a first instinctual
instinct insight though that u r gunna need something bigger. This sounds like
a Wordslugsauras Rex, not a wucken Satan.
The Sarge told u all about them, back at cosmic boot camp. U r gunna
need u CRL, u Cosmic Rocket Launcher. And u’s knows it. And where is it Zero?!
It’s wucking back at the camp, isn’t it?! It is staying warm by the fire. Not
too far away from Stevee’s presumably asleep arse. Move Zero! Move! Run u
wucken current! As fast as u semi astral, semi physical legs will carry u. U r
gunna need a cosmic rocket or 2, to bring this big stinking wucker down.
“I am wucked!,” it roars.
Just as u get a quickie
backward glance. At its enormously ugly wucking head. The wucken thing is
thirty metres off the ground. It looks like T Rex times 3, and the wucking
current has seen u too. U send a message to increase speed. It comes out like u
legs belong to some Japanese cartoon character. Stop shuffling Zero!
Not 3 forward, then one back!
Go 3 forward, 3 forward, 3 forward! The old number 9, like in the old, old
days. Then repeat.
Run u wucking current! It’s holographic life or death. It’s either u or
the Wordslugsauras Rex, that’ll be crowing with the wucking Matrix cock.
U have come too far to get knocked out now. Stevee would never go the
distance, if u’s had to take him back to the start. He’d die on u’s, for sure.
The wucker.
“I am absolutely wucking
rooted! To this wucking ground! I’ll never get off it, because they r gunna put
me in a coffin one day. And wucken bury me under it!”
The Rex craps on to u. U knows
that it just wants someone to talk to. But Zero, u don’t want to talk to it. No
way Jose. U just wanna kill it. All dead.
“Hey buddy!!!,” it roars. “I
am depressed, oppressed, suppressed, compressed and a psychological wucking
mess. I am wucked! I have to admit it. The words, they tell me so. Over and
over and over again. They tell me that I am absolutely rooted to this wucking
ground! I am, I am, I am. Where things go wrong all of the wucken time. Where
life is so wucking wucken hard.
3 steps forward, then 4 back. Then u’s die.
U’s have a little good time
here and then bang, the shit hits u. Hey buddy! I am wucked! Did I ever tell u
about it?! Hey wait up little friend! I just want to talk and share some
beliefs about how wucken horribly imprisoned we all r. In this current of a wucking
universe. We struck out.
We picked the dimension that is the anus. Of it all.
Did I tell u that I was wucked
buddy?! I can’t remember. I have got this memento thing. Did I tell u that I
was absolutely rooted?! To this wucking, wucking current of a ground! I can’t
remember that as well. Did I tell u that I’ve got this memento thing?! About
what I did b4 I was an abstract human concept?! B4 I appeared as an image.
Whose face got shoved onto a tit, if lucky enough. Not to cop a machete thru
the head. Of the non stop appearing and disappearing, world image scene.
Did I buddy?! Did I?! Or did u
tell me?! I can’t remember. I just can’t. I am wucked, that’s why. I am
absolutely rooted to the spot with disgust. With everything. My useless,
limited self included. I am headbasher, Number 9. Living its useless wucking
life, in this horror infested, wucking sicko psychos’ hole.
I am disgusted despair and life is a despicable wucking business. That
is for sure. I am the critic of it. From one end of the path to the other. I am
slick and mean and mighty unclean, with some of my words.
I am poxed with something that
I just don’t understand! That’s why. Why is all of this horrible shit happening
to me? What the wuck did I wucken do?!!! To end up part of the human race. For,
my most vilest and most evil enemy, I would not wish such a fate upon. I
couldn’t steep to such divine cruelty. As to load anyone up with volumes of
word nonsense. Not even Satan. I’d stick a bullet into him, b4 I’d turn him
into a human.
I’d do the right thing.
If I truly offended the Gods
even b4 I was born to suffer so acutely, then perhaps I was a dark lord who
blew away a galaxy?! Or 2. And murdered sqillions. In some prior, very bad
life, maybe I did it. Who knows?! Because I must have done something that broke
the cosmic rules. Wuck! The evidence for that has been all around me inside and
out. My whole wucking life. Oddball! Rolling around the nuthouse. That’s me.
Catch me in a bad mood, and I’ll rip u wucken guts out. And eat them. Then I’ll
lop u head of and shove it up u’s arse. Just for good measure.
I am Rex! I can do what I wucken like! Rex rules!!! Rex rules the
chaos.
Who can I blow away because of
my frustrations? I sure feel like kicking some wucken arse! For some payback for
my inner pain. Who is to blame? Is it u? Is there a plan to all of this?! Am I
to be burdened with it forever?! That’s all that I want to know little buddy.
Maybe u can help me. U r nice and small and cute. U run fast too! U r a regular
little road runner. Beep! Beep! Beep!
U look like a decent enough package. Do u wanna eat me all up? Digest
me and shit me back out as fertiliser for tulip fields. In Japan’s Amsterdam.
Did I tell u that I’ve got this thing about memory?
Words and images come out, and
then they go back in. Somewhere or another. I am still trying to figure out
whether they enter stage left and exit stage right, or vice versa. That’s cool
though. But the order!
The order. I am not sure of
anymore. Is it longitudinal or vertical? I mean, what is the profile?!!! Come
on! Come on! Out with it! U cunt! It gets all fuddled up sometimes. Like that
which is last, becomes first. Vice versa too, from any spot along the
longitudinal trail. And what’s in the middle, floats to the outside. Somehow.
Oh! I dunno. Maybe I’ve got this all wucken wrong too. Sometimes I even just
start singing, to kill the pain. Of the disorderly wucking mess.
Of living nothing but chaos
and mortal confusion. It’s agony! It’s a droll existence. So unfair! What did I
wucken do?! To be burdened with such a current of a wucking life!!!
That’s what I want to wucken know! Who’s responsible?
Because I want to kill the current!!!
Daissssyyyyyyy! Daisssssyyy! Ohhhhhhh Daissssssyyyyyyy!
Why do u mooooooovvve…..so wuckinggggg slowwwwwwwww!
Daissyyyy! Daisssyyyyy! My name is Rex!!!
Oh! R u still here, little
one?! Hello! Hello! Hello!
I am Rex!!! U can call me Rexee, if u like. Who r u darlin’?! What kind
of kitchy kitchy coo chemical r u? I might chalk up some points, if I give u’s
the gangland kiss. Stop!
Stop and chat with me! Come on, slow down and turn around honey. Let me
see u tits sweetheart! Let me see u part u’s lips and blow the witches’
cauldron. From here to wucken eternity.
In return, I’ll tell u’s all
about the market economy. Who’s buying. Who is selling, and who is rooting who.
What can u tell me? Got any hints on how a damned up soul might slip out of the
back door? I’ve been on the run a long time sweetheart. I have to tell u’s.
I’ve taken out everything on the plate, except myself. U name it, and I’ve
wucked the shit out of it. That’s right sweetheart. I am Doctor Death. If I was
u, I’d be wucken running too.”
It’s up u arse sprouting its
psycho babble, sexual whacko shit. It’s thudding along. It’s chasing u full
bore. The whole joint is shaking, as if there is a massive transmutation
coming. It’s game on Zero. It’s level 2 and u asked for it. U didn’t think that
it was going to be a cake walk, did u’s?!
Tell u what Zero. U r not
wucking cake walking at the moment. That’s for sure. U r anything but cake
walking. U r the ring of fire, going the right way for once. Wuck! Is that a
wucked up entity up u arse?! Talking absolute, psycho babble shit. Or is that a
wucked up entity that u r gunna blow away? Dissolve. Decompute and delete from
the mindscreen. That is the question. For wuck’s sake Zero! Do it a favour.
Show charity and clarity. Kill it! And put it out of its misery. B4 it talks
u’s into believing in its insanity.
*
“Have u ever seen a wucking
spirit move so wucking fast?!”
Is the comment that is doing
the rounds in the cosmic bars. Where the Goddesses and Gods of universes far
and wide. R watching what u Zero r doing. On their infamous, REAL SKY tv. U may
not be aware of it Zero. But they haven’t had such hysterical entertainment in
many a long year.
Christ. Allah. Buddha. And so
forth. U r entertainment plus to them. Your group’s adventures r the bench
mark, as far as they r all concerned. Definitely, the real entertainment, is
inside the house.
“Go Zero go! Go Zero go! Run u
wucking current! Run like the wind!!!!!”
The WUCKERS chant. As they
raise there cosmic glasses into their ethereal atmosphere. To toast u
everlovin’ kid soul. Every zillionth of a second. Then they’ll flick over to
see what 3, 4, 5, 41, 23, Brains and the others r all up to. It’s 24/7 in the
cosmic bars these days. For them. When u wait so long for a Grand Final to
happen on the sky box, then 1000’s of them happen unexpectedly, simultaneously.
Well, it’s just beyond words. The bliss of the entertainment just feather
tickles u’s cosmic arsehole, 24/7.
When u have the right
equipment to pick up those glorious signals. Get ‘em! Get ‘em Zero! That
infinite eternity of transcendental Light that’s out there and in there, for u
to play with for wucking ever. Is all u, as the Lot.
Ain’t nothing to get angry or violent about. Ain’t nothing to get
sorrowful about. U didn’t miss any of it, because it only happened in u wucking
dreaming. So far. And as every so called human knows, dreaming isn’t real. So
the wucken joke’s on u Zero. U can’t wucken die, when u’ve never been born. U
set the whole wucken thing up, so that u’d wake up in it, and realise how truly
wucken awesome u r. As a kid soul spirit, and a so called human being.
Because u can play as the
little, itty bit. The manifestation. Or the Big bit, the whole and total seen
and unseen. Having come this far now Zero, the only thing that u’ve got left to
do, is to give this much talked about. Matrix killin’, a shot. Or 2 or 3. More
if u get there and they r still all attached to Stevee’s back. The SLM’s, that
is. The little, u bewt, Spirit Light Mortars. One of which could take out a
Word Volcano Mountain, a WVM, any wucken day. Or night. Or shades this way and
that, inbetween.
By now Stevee is up and
standing stiff legged on the edge of the hill again. Like a dirty big dog about
ready to bark. His ears look like if they got one bit feather stiffer, they’d
wucken blast off from his head. He’s too shocked to get a hee haw out though.
The noise is deafening and as scary as all hell. He’s pretty spooked.
It sounds like wucken big
trouble a comin’. It sounds like King Kong is out there and wucken incoming.
And u Zero, the one with the guns, r nowhere to be seen.
He can’t work it out. He’s been thinking that level 2 doesn’t have any
horror in it. Just fun and games. It’s an eerie time for Stevee, who’s frozen
to the spot. Talk about being wide awake though. Stevee is alert consciousness itself.
The ground is still shaking
like Elvis when the monster thing steps out of the deep, dark forest. That’s
been on his left hand side for some time now. He sees it b4 he sees u coming up
the hill, like a streak of greased lightning. Or the Flash. Or the Tassie
Devil. Because u r whizzing and whirring somewhat. A 100,000 volt charge goes
thru Stevee’s legs as the Wordslugsauras Rex lets out another phenomenal,
bloodcurdling, absolutely deafening roar.
“I am wucked! I am absolutely
wucking rooted!,” it howls at the full moon. Its evil red, super deranged eyes
glowing something fierce.
It’s A Rex all wucken right and it’s all too much for Stevee. Who
breaks out into a raucous chorus of hee haws.
“Zeroooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!,” he howls at the moon.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!
Where the wuck r u?!!! U wucking current of a spirit! Where do u go all of the
time when I really wucking need u’s?!”
Just as u baseball slide into
camp. Behind his bawling arse. Within 5 seconds, u rocket launcher is over u
shoulder. It’s armed and another rocket is wedged underneath u left arm. U’s
barks an order at Stevee to stand sideways stiff and rest u’s launcher across
his sturdy back. A better plan Zero!
His back will give u steadier
aim. U start sighting up. The Wordslugsauras Rex is almost breathing on u’s. U
can see its horrible razor sharp teeth and u can smell its foul stinking, heavy
shit tainted breath.
Then u squeezes off u first
shot. The second one follows quickly. U get the old far behind view of the
moving missiles and their smoke plumes, then they plough into the monster
turd’s face. That’s 30 metres high up in the air, and seventy metres from u,
right now. One in each blood red eye, is how u witness it. Perfect shooting
Zero. As wucken usual. The phantoms of antiquity tip their hats, for a job, oh
so neatly done. With expert timing and precision.
“Eat shit! U wucken big noisy,
wucken dickhead!!!,” Stevee hee haws belingerently at it. He’s pleased with the
results of u rocket firing. There is absolutely no doubt about that.
“Took u wucken time, didn’t u
Zero?!,” he quips at u. From out of the left side of his big gob. Strop like.
“I made it though Stevee!”
“Yeah! By a whiska Zero!”
“A whiska is better than no
whiska at all Stevee! Level 2, u know?!”
“Yeah Zero! Level wucking 2!
The level of no wucking sleep. Can’t u get silencers on u guns?! Or something.
There must be something that can stop this racket. For wuck’s sake. I gotta
have me strength for carting the ammo from a to b, during the day. Night time,
I am supposed to sleep Zero! Not fight off dirty great big wucken monsters!
That r talking pure psycho babble, at unbelievable volumes. And
clogging up the sky.”
U’s looks at u big lug of an
offsider. The wucker sure is hard to believe sometimes. He loves a bitch, old
Stevee. Loves it! No matter what the wuck is going down. He or she’s, gotta
have their wucking bitch. About what’s wucking wrong, with dreaming shitty
holograms up.
“Bitch to the Voice, if u want
Stevee! But don’t bitch to me. U got what u wanted. Besides! If u can’t sleep,
then u can help me kill the little, replicator word slugs.”
“But that’s your wucken job
Zero!”
“Says wucken who Stevee! There
r no signs that I’ve seen thus far regarding that u r being excluded from
anything that is going on here!”
“Oh get off it Zero! I can’t
fire a gun! I haven’t got the digits! I have got hooves! Or hadn’t u wucking
noticed?!”
“Then use u hooves Stevee! And
be my Romper Stomper!”
It as this stage that the
massive monster crashes to the deck. It swayed a bit, mouthed off a last garble
of symbolic word crap, over dramatically. Said goodbye to mum with a love u
always. Then collapsed. Like all names and shapes of that variety eventually do.
As it thuds sideways into the ground, the tiny, uppermost tip of its tail,
comes to rest a couple of inches. On top of Stevee’s rainbow coloured blanket.
Agitated already, an indignant Stevee trotts over to it and in sheer,
utter disgust. Boots it off. The look on his face has to be seen to be
believed. He’s thinking. How dare that wucking thing violate my rainbow space!
With the very uppermost tip, of its filthy wucken, shit filled tail.
In other words, why should the
sting come to rest on his wucken blanket? If he is just the offisider, who will
probably be put out to pasture. B4 too long. Ain’t that the truth. Deep down.
For little Stevee. He thinks, behind the scenes. Still. Does it bug him, or
her? Death? Yes it does. But not for too much longer. Now that he too has
caught the cosmic consciousness virus.
Where u’s turns it all around.
So that it works for u. So that it is fun. To only dream that u r separate and
alone. Whilst still being the One. It’s a challenge and for the spirit.
Challenge is the key word. That unlocks all of the transcendental doors.
“Wuck off!,” he snaps, as he
boots the tip of foreign Rex tail. It lifts up and plonks into the dirt. A good
metre away.
“U piece of shit! I am sick of
wucking stings and I want the real truth now. Stick u shit brained words up u
fat wucking arse. We won’t back down! We’ll never surrender! Will we Zero?!
We’ll wipe the floor with u’s! U wucken animals.”
From the way Stevee talks to the carcass of supposedly dead meat, u
would think that it was he who fired the rockets. Because he is all bravado at
the moment.
It is at this point that u
notice something completely different. U’s nipples stiffen considerably. The
Rex is not dead yet. U espy that u little hill in foreign country, is indeed
currently surrounded. By 26 tribes off replicator wordslug letters, that have
poured forth. From the shot out eyes and brain of the dead monsterbeast.
They’ve climbed out of the numerous blown out chunks of its skull. Hordes of
others r streaming from out its anus. Like diarrhoea, in a hurry.
They r parachuting down to the
ground as single letters. No wonder the Lightshow from its decomposing form
hasn’t started yet. The wucken Wordslugsauras Rex was a Trojan, u’s should have
known. The Sarge instructed u that they can do that. U’s checks u guns. U r
gunna wucken need them.
“Stevee!!!!”
U hollers. Louder than God possibly could.
Stevee looks around quickly
from sniffing his blanket. Every hoof goes sideways out a foot. His dick pops
out a bit. There is a question mark, and an exclamation mark on top of his
scone. It’s cartoonish, but very real. In mid air, they r.
He was happily checking out if
the thing’s tail had left any shit on his bonza sleeping gear. That’s all. His
entire wucken face is a cosmic question mark.
U’s indicates to him what’s formed up in the distance. Stevee looks up
and hears their incessant high pitched squeaking at the same time. They have
grouped into bunches of 100’s. Being Roman leftovers.
They r incredibly orderly,
superbly well drilled and trained troops. 1000’s upon 1000’s of individual
letter slugs, sychronised as a killing machine. They r like mindless ants.
Borglike for sure, the replicating buggers r. They usually have mere mortals in
the bog in no time.
But they’ll not be dealing with mere mortals today. That is for wucking
sure.
The A’s r bunched together.
The B’s, the C’s, right down to the Z’s. They r out there, like the wucken
Zulus were for Michael Caine. And the rest of the film crew. Stomping, chanting
and sqeaking, they r. Waiting for the word to attack.
U’s spits it out of the side
of u gob Zero.
“It’s romper stomper time
Stevee!”
As u tits come back again, and u morph completely. Yet again. Shit! U’s
is having 30 second switches these days. U’s welcomes that extra little bit of
space inside u jeans. U r gunna need it.
“Whether u want in or not
sunshine?! It’s time to play romper stomper!”
U says to the donk.
Stevee looks around. He is not
pleased at all. It sure looks like to him that the old pattern is back. In a
wucking cocksucking big way. It looks like the Napoleonic wars out there. The
flags r flying and the uniforms r spottlessly clean. But only for the time
being, brothers and sisters. Only for the time being. Ha! Ha! Ha! Wolf!
Pretty soon all of those brass
and silver buckles will be blinded by the Light. Coming out of your
constitution. As regards, never surrending. To illusion. U r what u I am says u
r. It is as simple as that. U’s collection of I ams is u self image. Which is
far too deadly at the moment. So reprogramme the I am, to just I am. Start
again, and go beyond. Excellent stuff. A thrilling and vibrant way to live,
rather than merely dying. Again.
“I don’t wucken believe this
Zero! Half the wucken universe is out there, armoured up. Speaking every
hostile language known to man.”
“Yeah Stevee! I didn’t believe
level 1 either!”
U’s looks over at u nervous offsider and there is a mountain of
affectionate detachment in u.
“C’mon big buddy!,” u says.
“It’s party time! Don’t get uself
in a bother Stevee! We’ll be fine! We can take these wuckers out, if we work
together. To start off with, I’ll pitch, and u’s bat whack!”
B4 Stevee can question u, u’s
has got a sack of cosmic grenades by u side. U dice a few at the waiting crowd
and they attack, full on. With u other strong arm, u’s flips up cosmic grenades
so that Stevee can whack them at the hordes. With his mighty fine tail. He
cottons on real fast. He has a strong sensation that he is fighting for his
life here folks.
It being rather hard for Stevee to close the file on seriousness,
sometimes. Pictures r real for the donkey, and the many different donkies have
lived with that. In many a hologram. For a wucken long time.
It dawns on u immediately Zero
that the Letter Word Replicator Slugs r committed to a set pattern. And it is
extraordinarily amazing. Long have u wished to witness the nature of their now,
not so subtle, attack methods. Like the Zulus, they come at u across the valley
as the open, 2 horned prong. Their plan is obviously to encircle u hill and
squeeze u out of existence. And impose their fake wucking order. Where the
alphabet, and not the spirit, rules.
Obviosusly Zero, u will have
to allow them to encircle u’s. They by far have the numbers. They have a weakness
though, and u being Zero. Queen Fanny and King Dick all rolled into one
multidimensional, dimensionless, hot to trot organism. Of a supreme entity.
Have already noticed it. They r dead already though. Ay?! That’s part of it.
Their other most evident weakness
is that they must leave their own bunch and join up. In the heat of battle. The
A’s come at u first, but the I’s must get ahead of them. Then the M’s have to
break ranks and get third in the attack line. Then the others have to do their
random following thing for them to have any power on u hill. It is definitely
hive like stuff.
They’ve gotta be an I am this
or that b4 they reach u circles, or they’re dead and dissolving fast. Like
hungry sperm who didn’t make it. And died a juicy death. Or got shot by u, or
stomped on by Stevee. And what a wucking romper stomper Stevee turns out to be!
In the middle of the grand
battle, he is doing them 4 at a time. Bruce Lee like. One under each mighty
hoof. They r squealing and moving spider like, with twice as many legs. On
their cat size frames. Stevee gets it down to a fine art quickly. He turns them
on their backs and throat hooves them. Downwards, really fast. He pops their
eyes, till their stupid brains run out of the sockets.
Then super robot like, he Asian bounces thru the air. To do four more.
The donk is a regular dynamo. A killing machine that’s poetry in motion.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!
Aiiieeeeee!,” he roars as he does his work.
Meanwhile Zero, your pearls r
blazing like they have never, ever blazed b4. U rifle wedged under u left arm
is doing the same. It is the shootout to end all shootouts. The replicator
slugs r hitting u with everything imaginable. Everything from I am a human to I
am the reincarnation of Cleopatra, or Adolph Hitler. To I am Jesus, is coming
u’s way.
There’s bundles of nonsense and some of the rankest gas that your nose
has ever smelt.
Stevee is doing a circlic war
dance directly around u ammo, u r six metres out further out. And circling in u
own war dance. Every now and again, a cosmic grenade gets whacked, or diced out
of sight. It is a tremendous battle. In the cosmic bars, the Goddesses and Gods
r absolutely glued to their sets. They’re living when they did their own
initiations, thru Zero’s eyes. Like the oldies do at the footy, when the rookie
kids r doing it, their way.
“Oh shooting Zero! Shooting!,”
they r going. With astral toasts galore.
“Oh stomping Stevie!
Stomping!”
They cry out, with tears of
joy rolling down their transcendental cheeks. One of their flock is on their
way home and there’s more joy and bliss in that, than anyone could possibly
imagine. Or write about. To go from light and dark to All Light. Now that’s a
trip. A picture or a piece of music may come closer to conveying it. Maybe. Maybe
not. Bliss is just a word. Till it lives inside of u. Then it’s very real.
The end of the great battle
sees u and super Stevee victorious. Naturally. The huge dead beast and its
legions of leftover slug letters, completely dissolve. They all put out a
mighty fine sky show as they do. Mighty fine indeed. U’s offsider is exhausted,
but he’s buzzing with happiness. So r u Zero. The two of u collapse into
sitting positions. U’s puts the billy on u’s everlasting fire. Stevee puts his
front 2 hooves on his belly, and farts. It’s another ground shaker.
“That was fun Stevee!,” u’s
exclaims happily.
“Yeah Zero! It was a wucken
riot. A cup of chai for me and then I am gunna sleep thru the dawn. I reckon.
I’m wucked!”
“Go for it Stevee! U can kip
when u’s wants. U should sleep that way, instead of by the convention clock.
Take a Churchill, early afternoon. Come out with me at night. Just for a few
hours. U got style when it comes to wordslug killin’ Stevee. Real style.”
Stevee eyes go up a tad. He is amused.
“Well. I must admit Zero that
I do rather enjoy it when they go pop! And when their brains run out of their
eye sockets. If only I’d been able to do that with some of the wucking stuff
that I met up with in level 1. That would have been fun.”
“It’s fun here though, ay
mate?! Here and now. We r the professionals! We r wucking invincible Stevee!
What a body, mind, spirit combination we r. U old wucker!”
“Old! Old Zero! Come on
wuckface! U r the one who is old!”
“Bullshit Stevee. Beyond the
beyond, I am ageless, timeless, causeless and spaceless.”
“Oh!!!!! Don’t start up with
that high fallooting stuff again Zero! Not after what we’ve just been thru. For
wuck’s sake. I’m knackered. Absolutely knackered.”
U’s passes a cup of chai in a
clay cup to the beast. It grabs it inbetween its 2 front hooves and takes a
weary sip. Quickly the big head with the big ears on it, draws away. The head
shakes somewhat.
“Oh! It’s hot Zero! It’s hot.”
“U said it Stevee! U said it.”
“Did I do good Zero?!”
“U fought like an angel
Stevee! From above. U’s killed like a lion, via the throat. Efficiently and
super quickly. U r without a doubt Stevee, the best warrior donkey ally that
Zero has ever had. No wucken doubt about that. Most certainly r u proactive.
And in the 21st century mate. If u ain’t proactive, then u may as
well be wucken dead. To the signpost that reads, on the road to cosmic
consciousness.”
“U sound like a wucken poet
Zero!”
“I am Stevee! That’s all. I am
nothing. I am Zero.”
“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! I’ve heard
that one b4. U left something out though. Shouldn’t it be, I am nothing, with
an arsehole?!”
“It is the body’s arsehole
Stevee! Not mine. The universe will take care of it.”
“U wucken hope Zero!”
“We r not doing too bad so far
Stevee.”
“We were lucky tonight Zero.’
“And we’ll be lucky tomorrow
night Stevee! And the night after that. And that too. Until they r all dead.
Until not one wordslug brain borer remains, can derangement have its final
closure.”
“Whatever Zero! I don’t give a
wuck. I’ll dress up in batshit, if u want. Just so long as I can get some
wucking sleep.”
Stevee’s head goes down. Like
a shot down airplane. It lands perfectly on his pillow and in a zillionth of a
second, he is out to this world. He’s gone. Within a minute, he is loudly
snoring.
U’s gets up to survey the
scene again. Some critters can sure be party poopers. Oh well! That’s Stevee
for u. Switched on one minute, switched off the next. He knows how to kill
wordslugs though, so he’s wucken alright in u cosmic book. He’s a player. He’s
a body lugger. The wucker.
Not far away from camp, just
across the creek actually, u’s come across a half dead wordslug. It manages to
just raise a head to u and croak out to u sorrowfully, one last;
“I am utterly wucked, I am a
loser! I didn’t join up with anything or body. I stayed adrift and I never made
the cut. I am an astray stray. I lost out and did nothing but wuck around and
waste it. Whatever it was that happened. I died 10,000 times, alone and
terribly alienated. I am wucked if I know what it was all really about. I
struck out! That’s about all that I know.
The rottenly fickle crowd threw grenades at me all of the way back to
the player’s dugout. And the coach couldn’t even look me in the eye. He just
stood there, simmering with rage. Whilst staring out into deep space. Wishing
that the sky God would send him something decent to work with.
The other players spat at my
feet. They wouldn’t talk to me either. Inside I hated their guts and told them
all to go get wucked. I wanted revenge on all savage skinbags. If I could have
snuffed out the entire planet then, I would have dun it. I’d already tossed a
verbal grenade or 2, back into the mongrels in the crowd. I just sat down on my
hurtin’ arse in the Earthly dugout, with my Earthly duck. And dreamt of my
glorious day of dying. And escape from all Earthly insane crap. If there is a
world where I am a loser, then there must be a world where I am a winner. There
has to be.”
There sure is Zero! Don’t u
know all about it too. Which indeed, is about the only decent fact that’s left
to play with. U’s draws a pearl and then decides against it. With u left boot,
u’s tips the slug over and stomps on its neck. 21st century
ladylike. Chunks all of the way in. Hard. Real hard. U’s lifts u other foot off
the ground. U’s comes down like a hell of fury.
It’s eyes pop and it’s brains
dribble out of its eye sockets. It’s a glorious sight. Now u know what Stevee
is on about. There is no blood or goo, just shades of off coloured light.
Lighting up, then vanishing. Then its body dissolves.
A few little fizzers and
whizzers come out of it arse as it does so. Like tracers, they jet off. U's
smile and push on from the little creek, back out into the wordslug enemy’s
territory. U’s puts a few more half dead slugs out of there misery with u
boots. Then hang it all, u’s starts pumping a chamber full or 2 into them. Just
for good measure and to really finish them off. To dispatch them back to the
holy drawing board with the bullet or the boot? It’s a fine line. Where the
degree of enjoyment is concerned.
Pretty soon, it is all
happening again as the wordslugs come back in force. Some of them r spiteful
one liners. Basically, I am no good, there’s big stuff wrong with me. Or just
ignorant accusations. Simple, I am the body, or I am the mind, wordslugs.
Others r long spiels involving much galling limitation. They imply a rotten
future, or none at all. And a gyped past.
U’ll have wucken none of this.
The past was perfect, because it got u to here. One by one, u did the steps
that lead to u initiation into the Real game. Because what is life, but a game
of hide and seek? If u hide, u lose. If u seek, then eventually something will
happen. And in your case Private Zero. As in the cases of the 100,000 who left
cosmic boot camp with u. And r right now, battling it out in their own level 2
holograms.
In all of u’s cases, something
happened. When u’s realised that u’s was made of inner-outer transcendental
Light. Something sure wucken happened. U didn’t fancy 30 years in a cave in the
Himalayas. So u’s played the Real game instead. A relaxed, confident smile is
on u face, regarding the imminence of cosmic consciousness, Matrix busting
stuff.
U’s guns r super blazing, as
the thinking all rolls by on u mindscreen. Like clouds that r made of the finer
e or el words. Like elevation and ecstacy. Endavour and euphoria. Stevee
witnesses none of it. He’s out of duality at the moment. Maybe. U r still in
it, sort off. But it is good for u to know that he’s around, if needed. The
Stevee trained well tonight and come the dark again, u’ll get him back out on
the stomping pitch. Because u r Coach Zero and the Team mission is to blow the
wuck out of the Matrix. Ah cha cha. Liberate uself today from being a human.
That’s the way to go, if u’s want in on the Real show.
Just go I am made of
transcendental Light. And impartially witness war to death. Any abstract word
concept that says that u r’nt Light. Kill it. Stretch out the silence that is
inbetween the words. Watch like a lolly from the outside, withdraw u’s
attentional focus from it. And it will die. Because it is a part of the mind
lying to u, and cheating u. And u can’t abide the liar, or the cheat. Not at
all Zero. The truth down to the last wucken point of a detail, is what u r
after.
Because u’s hologram is all
atomic cell replication. It feeds upon itself in 2 ways. It keeps growing, or
it dies completely. It evolves or it destroys itself.
If u can get to that initial point from where the replication begins,
and the holographic starts. Chances r. U will indeed witness stuff that is
pretty wucken different. To having Big Brother or Big Sister, sitting on u’s
face.
With their putrid so called
authority to put the boot or the bullet in. For the Nation, that really
disappeared 50 years ago. That’s life when u r dealing with so called humans,
who mostly don’t know who they really r. Who wouldn’t have a clue in wucking
hell that they r sleeper, kid soul spirits.
Of the highest, highest wucking calibre. The real front line, tough and
hardened to the 3D shock of it all, privates. These r the gun troopers of the
cosmic universe. They can rip a 3rd dimension apart overnight, if
enough of them wake up simultaneously. They r a different sort of terrorist and
the war mad Earth governments will be absolutely powerless against them. Wait
and see.
Because they can reach a level
where if they open their mouths to speak, a wucken cosmic bomb will come out.
The Sadguru, the inner Light. That wonderful Light at the tip of u kid soul.
Right smack bang in the middle of u’s heart.
NEVER, EVER LIES!
They always, these diehards, get sent or volunteer for planets that r
in the stage that Earth is.
R’nt u glad Zero?! R’nt u glad that u were one of them?! And that u
woke up and realised. Hot shit ay?! Shit hot! To play with the Lot. Is fun.
That matter and spirit r
exactly the same, u r potently aware of. Someone holds up a mirror to pure
consciousness. The mind invents a world in the mirror, and then hops into the
mirror. And gets totally wucking lost with its myriads of false identities. And
created Gods, and systems and isms. Created by replicator words and the
holographic imagery generated by them.
The trick then Zero is to get back to where the mind started from, b4
it jumped into the mirror world. There Zero! That’s where your Light body is
gathering its cosmic forces, for the coming assault. Upon the hu man’s wucking
shitpile of wucking words. That some wucker 1000’s of years ago, started off.
Probably, initially, by
drawing some individual symbol. In the sand, with a pointed stick. This shape
means this! They said to the rest of the tribe. Memorise it! U wuckers!
Yes Boss! Those lower in authority said back. U Chief! U makim up them
power symbols pretty good! U must come from God. U Chief and so r some of u
bubs. From the numerous vaginas that u will fiddle with, then poke u divine
thing into.
I am Chief sounds pretty good.
The Chief likes it a lot. Good power words, he reckons. Immediately he orders a
few heads off and learns the first lesson about being a divine word ruler.
Entertain the crowd, because they r wucking dangerous. If the dogs turn on u,
they’ll kill u.
By sheer weight of numbers. No matter how many wucken words u got in u
vocabularly. They, having turned and being full of envy, jealousy and hatred,
will kill u. They’ll string u’s corpse up upside down and throw rotten tomotoes
at it. If the conditions r right, and u’s give them a sniff of a chance.
They’ll take u’s head off and shove it up u’s arse. U’ll need the army and lots
and lots of riot police machines to save u self. The assassin will bug u like a
shadow.
To be working class is to be
paranoid about not having the dough to eat, sleep under a roof and pay the
bills. To ensure the continuance of that engenders great stress. Economic hell
breeds psychological disorders. The dysfunctional must create a job for
something higher up the chain. Otherwise they’re dead. To be ruling class
though is to be paranoid of getting u head chopped off. And shoved up u’s arse.
This tells u all as to why wars r really fought. If u give your real
enemy an enemy to kill, then there’s less chance that they’ll kill u. That’s
the theory upon which the holy state is built. Of course, it is all a mind con
of monstrously foul proportions. Which didn’t help Kennedy one bit. Till he got
to the other side.
Then felt the tremendous warmth of the transcendental Light stuff
there.
I am Light destroys negativity
then duality. It dissolves it all back into holographic dust. Because spirit
always does everything perfectly. And that is exactly what is needed. In an
environment where holograms have periods.
Bring on the mind period that will release every soul from the horrific
nonsense of Earth then. Bring on the Real game.
Less talk, more action.
Kill! Kill! Kill!
That’s the way that u do it Private! Go get ‘em. U soldier of cosmic
fortune Zero.
*
It is midday when Stevee’s
eyes flit up. Like Marilyn’s skirt done, all of those years ago now. The warm
sun is bearing down on him, but he is stinking hot. With his blanket on. He
throws it off him and in an instant Asian hops onto all fours. He’s got the
spring of the cat in him today. Because secretly, he rather enjoyed all of the
killing. That he was a party to, in the dreamy heat of the night. He practices
a few hoof kicks and does a few other warm up exercises.
Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
He hears a way off in the distance. Stevee shakes his big, 2 eared
head. He’s smiling about u’s incessant blasting away now.
“Wucken Zero!,” he hee haws to
the ground.
“The current never stops! The
current’s as serial as all hell! When it comes to putting wordslugs out of
their wucken misery. Hee haw!”
Then, out of his right eye,
Stevee catches sight of something, or someone. At first he thinks that it is a
wordslug. His initial impact is to chase it down and stomp it into the ground.
Upon closer inspection though, he sees something that he doesn’t understand.
Thru its tangled matt of hair, he sees the face of a extraordinarily dirty so
called human child. Of age 4 to 5.
The hairy thing looks like a Cousin It who has not bathed since birth.
It is by the campfire, scavenging thru leftover food scraps. Till it finds
something really nice. Then it doesn’t worry about the scraps. Its back face is
to Stevee.
When it turns around to espy
the bemused donk looking at it, it growls fiercely and scurrys off. Wolf like,
on all fours. Immediately, Stevee hears a chorus of wolf calls in the distance.
He starts up with a line or 2 of hee haws. And starts talking to his distance
cousins.
The wolves tell him that the
son of woman and man went plumb wucken wild. And that they looked after him.
Because of their intuitive instincts. But now the wolves tell Stevee, u and
Zero can have the 90mph critter back. Because he is too much.
Stevee’s jaw drops a bundle.
It hits him that the last thing that u and he need is a wucken wild wolf kid to
look after. He hee haws protestation after protestation back, but to no avail.
The wolf pack has already pulled out. And they have left the wolf kid to follow
your food trail.
*
“Hey Zero! U r gunna wucken
love this! The Voice had nothing to do with it either. If u want the answer to
this one, ask the wolves.” Stevee yells at u, the moment that u set foot back
in camp.
Frankly Zero, u have no idea
what the donkey is babbling about. Moreover, u have noticed that something that
u left by the fire is wucking missing.
“Stevee! Where’s that wucking
snakeburger that I left by the fire?!!! I was gunna have that for wucken
lunch!”
“That’s what I am trying to
tell u Zero! There’s a new kid on the block! Do u remember Wolfman Jack? Well,
it’s not exactly him! But lets just say he or she or it’s a chip off the old
block.”
“What the wuck r u babbling
about Stevee?! And u haven’t answered my question! What have u dun with my
wucken other snakeburger?!!!”
“I haven’t done anything with
it Zero! The wucken kid ate it!!!”
“What wucking kid Stevee?!”
“The wucken wolf kid Zero!”
“R u on wucking drugs
Stevee?!!! What wucken wolf kid?!!!”
“That one! U wucking wuck
faced moron! Talk about me being wucking thick! Use u wucken eyes Zero! That’s
what u made them for. So that the spirit could look thru the brain’s eyes at an
outside world that’s really an inside one.
Look Zero! Look! Look at the
wolf kid who lives deep down inside all of us, because of relentless shunting
and put downs. And a flood of the wrong data coming in. Along the so called
human line. Very biased stuff mate. Tell u all about u humanised limitations.
Scare the hell out of u with fire breathing, wrath weilding sky Gods. Creating
violent control freak humans galore. Tell u’s absolutely nothing about u
inbuilt cosmic potential though.
Set up beautifully for the odd brilliant and everlastingly powerful
discovery or 2. It all is really. Nicely constructed, for those who wish to
Realise.”
Stevee points a front right
hoof to u left. U can’t help but seeing the thinking that he must have had a
juicy sleep. He made more sense just then than in the entire time that u’ve
known him.
U’s looks left following the hoof line and 10 metres away, u sees the
wolf kid. On the edge of the bushes and camouflaged beautifully. It growls at u
and moves around somewhat. It’s filthy dirty and actually looks like it’s got
patches of fur. It’s body behaviour and reactions r those of a young wolf.
That’s its obvious disability.
U jaw drops somewhat. Here’s trouble! And duty galore. Goes across u’s
mindscreen.
U can’t believe it Zero. What
the wuck is a wolf kid doing in this wucken game?! Unless! The kid is the one
that u must save. Could this be? U try to approach the little monster. But it
won’t let u get too close and literally pisses off into the bushes. U’s turns
around and fronts up to the Stevee.
“The plot thickens, old son!”
U’s says.
The donkey doesn’t look
impressed.
“I didn’t sign on to be a
wucken babysitter Zero! We r not going to be anywhere near as mobile with a
gone animal kid tagging along.”
“Level 2 Stevee! Besides, u
didn’t sign up anyway. U wucking volunteered because u wanted to come. U were
bored shitless and pissed off to the max. That is why u r standing here today
Stevee. Because u got sick off despairing.”
“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Hee haw!
Hee haw! Hee haw!
U r a wucking know all Zero.”
“I know nothing Stevee! All
knowledge in a dreaming state is fantasy. That is the absolute truth.”
“Owwwwrrrrooooooooooooooo!,”
the wolf kid sounds off in the distance.
“What’s he saying Stevee?,”
u’s asks the beast.
The beast tells u that the kid
is saying that he is hungry, and that he wouldn’t mind another snakeburger.
Because that last one was rather tasty. U’s tells Stevee to tell the kid that
u’ll do him up three. Then u do a one fat lady, followed by a bit of a Jamie,
waltzing around the campfire. U’s eggflip is wucken dynamite in u’s hands.
Having procured that already gutted and hung up snake that u had
hanging out the back. Over a branch of a sycamore tree. There’s a wucken
plucked duck hanging there too, but snake cooks quicker. And it is the kid’s
specific request.
So even though u wouldn’t mind
chomping into a bit of the old wucken duck, u’s leaves it alone. It’s u first
sacrifice, because of the kid. There’s not enough room in u pan for snake and
duck together. Wuck it! U’ll have to come back to the wucken succulent duck.
U’s will. Just like spirit always does, u will come back too.
Stevee meanwhile has gone
Tasmanian and hee haws into the early afternoon. That he wants to be included.
Not excluded. It’s another crackerjack, blue as blue skyed, law and order day.
Miami vice hasn’t got a chance in this holographic paradise. Not if u’s ban all
animal circuses.
Because u have been seeing the
most wonderfully exquisite thinking going across u’s mindscreen Zero. It’s been
saying that the kid has got digits, that r gunna grow. Therefore the kid can
handle a cosmic gun.
If u can bring him out slowly
or not so slowly, from his romper stomper, wolving around stage. Nurture the
wucker along. U might be able to allow for the draw that there’s a Real shooter
in him. Or her. Deep underneath all of the wolf stuff that the youngun has
picked up. He or she is agro enough to become a killer. That’s for sure. A
little labourer around the place, could be more than useful. In fact, it could
tip the scales. When it comes to taking out the wucken Word Mountain.
U’s could be on a winner here Private. Matter of fact, u r absolutely
100% certain that u r. Now u know why u have to save, the one that the real
game demands that u must save.
The child is everything in the
Real game.
It’s the spirit of the show.
Fun and laughter rule always. As does love from above and innocent love
flowing freely from inside the child. Exploration and discovery is the goal.
Sometimes killing, though not always.
Only when the real enemy rears
its ugly wucken alphabetic head. Practically demanding that u’s blow it off. By
a quick movement of u’s ever itchy cosmic finger. Is the killing necessary.
Kill the letters and words that make u sick. That’s the trick.
The ethereal peace that
follows this war is something that every so called human should be told about.
In kindergarten.
The teacher should say. U will
learn a language, so that one fine day u’s can totally and utterly destroy it.
Then they should write on the blackboard that plasticine doesn’t go the
distance. Though the Light that is in kids does. So find IT!
It is exactly as the textbook
Guru Nisarga said. God gives body and mind. The Guru shows the right way to use
them. The work of using them to return to the Light though is u own.
The Kid’s Story
The law of the ocean says that
if u come across a ship in distress, then u must offer assistance to the
fulness of u maritime capacity. The law of the Real game says that if u come
across a wolf kid, then u must provide assistance to the fulness of u
holographic capacity. And so u and Stevee do over the next 3 months. U cover
wuck all ground, but eventually the child begins to trust u’s. At first, the
little boy is more friendly towards Stevee.
He has the animal identification with the beast, though u feed him.
Then eventually he warms to u as well. And stops his infernal growling every
time that u try to get near him.
He sleeps with Stevee whilst u
go on your nightly jaunts. There seeming to be a never ending supply of word
slugs to pop away at. There’s always the odd bit of big stuff out there as
well. Every night, u get at least 1 Wordslugsauras Rex. Sometimes more. One
night u got wucken 6 of the wuckers! Haw! What a wucking night that one was. U
shot them all fair up the arse with cosmic rockets, and blew away all of their
bowel dead letters. B4 they could get going. As the leftover, Trojan army.
The Voice played Beethoven for u 7 hours straight, as u’s shot and re
run shot u way to stardom. They loved it in the cosmic bars. Absolutely.
They sipped from the Real
firewater and howled with ethereal laughter and joy. Every time that another
rocket roared up another Rex’s arse. They just exploded with that having a lot
of fun, big time essence. That’s in u naturally, as u kid soul spirit. God! It
just reminded them so much of when they played level 2. And that night when
they scored 6 of the wucking best too.
They stuck it right up them, they did. Now they’ve got halos that
stretch from their hearty heads, to the other side of the cosmos. This is your path too Zero.
If u want it, and u do. But u
must break u emotional-mental attachment for holographic stuff. U must be able
to let go of it in an instant. The Real and the false r always at war. And the
false will lose!!! It has no chance against the Real! NONE AT ALL! This was
another power statement from u textbook Guru, who now lives in u heart forever.
Because he taught u that only a mug would back the loser. And u r not a
cosmic mug. U always back the winner, the Light.
U r Zero! Made of Light.
Matrix buster, first class. U r not the body mind and its plethora of
mental-emotional contortions. U r the spirit within which all of that happens.
Within which the entire cosmos happens. For better or worse, depending on u
navigations. Though it is all short term. The Real devours every thing
eventually. Every bit of Light that It puts out, It just gobbles back up.
Sooner or later. When the thing realises that It was never not the Light, it
happens.
Spontaneously, wonderfully,
beautifully. Dispassionately. There is nothing that can alter this process. It
is the Tao. Therefore, Zero is most safe in the arms of Zero’s Light. Which is
the Real Self. And when Zero feels SAFE. In the bosom of the kid soul. Content
with the front up, and lapping up the back up. That’s when Zero plays real
well.
That’s when Zero is 100% on their game. Which is NOW! Because there's a
multitude of filthy wucking word slugs to kill yet. And that wucken word
spewing mountain is still out there somewhere. In mind land hologram Number X.
Or wherever the wuck that u r.
U have to face it. The killing has only just started. The alphabet is still in
power. U have only just put a dent in one of their myriads of flanks. Wuck it!
More killing Zero! That’s what u need.
The kid goes thru a bit of a
mutation, when he’s scrubbed right up. The body hair drops off and he’s a
beautiful little boy. He gets on like a house on fire with Stevee. Who quickly
becomes very clucky and protective of him. Despite what he said about a kid
slowing down the pace, Stevee absolutely loves having the fired up young
braveheart around. They play games all day long and they cuddle up at night
together. Under Stevee’s rainbow blanket.
Pretty soon it’s obvious to u that they r in transcendental love with
each other. Which is fine by u, so long as they don’t get carried away with it.
On the other side, b4 it’s time. For the saucers to land. In a realm, devoid of
wayward imaginations. And exceedingly narrow, slit like perceptions.
Yours is the power of
perception. U r not what u perceive, unless u r playing from outside of it as
the whole lot. Sound advice from u textbook Guru. U’ll carry it to u grave Zero
and u’ll still be laughing about it; when they lower the old bod into the
ground. Where it can happily turn into a skeleton. U r inner-outer,
transcendental Light. What else do u need?! Nothing! ‘Cepting to kill that
wucking Matrix. That’s bugged u, and re run bugged u, for so long now. Well, u
r in the right game Zero. Because this is the Real one, that’s for sure.
The kid though, soon takes to
following u around. B4 u know it, u’s has a little helper. U inner vision dream
comes true. The Voice, who is absolutely stoked with the kid’s progress as
well, awards the youngun a set of scaled down pearls. They r fully automatic
and reload themselves.
All that the kid has to do is to keep shooting. It’s then that the fun
really begins and u pick up real progress again. As far as covering the ground
goes.
The 3 of u’s have many parties
where u and the kid r blasting away, and Stevee is stomping away. The kid and
Stevee sleep at the same time, so there r’nt many midnight sessions. The days r
jam packed with killing though. And u couldn’t be happier Zero. To be heading
for the Matrix and making out with Stevee and the kid simultaneously. Is in
itself, a dream come true.
In u past Zero, the kid didn’t
get treated right. It got all of this lunatical word shit shoved into it. It
got told that it had to be and was indeed a this or that, and to do this or
that. And only this or that. So as to see it only the human 3rd
dimensional perceptual way. Or else.
It got pumped full of chronic manipulation glut at the oil bowsers of
the supposedly rich and powerful.
Who r but the super ignorant disguised in suits and other dresses.
Because they r still killing the wrong item. Most definitely, should they go
after their own stupid words. Which beguile and defile so many. Starting with
themselves.
The kid got buggered, raped,
manhandled, womanhandled, mished, mashed, utilised and wucked over.
Multinationalised, corporated (3rd dimensionally brainwashed) and
insidiously manipulated. Almost beyond repair, it turned in on itself. And
believed the lies that it was uselessly limited, unless rich and famous. Or up
there with the idioticly hedonistic, glossed up fools on the hill.
It got told to fit into a reality that is nothing but holographic
dreaming anyway. And the great inner-outer, I am Light truths, were hidden from
the little bugger. Hidden right way. Almost forgotten, and lost. Until now
Zero!
Because the kid kills wordslugs
as efficiently as either u or Stevee do. He’s a bit slower, but he gets them,
with a smile. And a little squeal of sheer delight, followed by a wolf growl.
With his scaled down, little pearls, he blows them away. He enjoys it so much.
He is not averse at all to this different kind of playing. He’s getting a
strong message from u and Stevee. Something along the lines of ;
We don’t collect them. We just kill them kid!
Because that’s what they want
us to do. We says to them. Thanks for all of u work in showing us what we don’t
really want. And have in fact, had an absolute wucken gutful of. Pretending to
be limited, wucked up vehicles, and all of that. Thanks for that. Now wuck off
back to the pure consciousness drawing board with all of u limited shit.
Because we r playing the
unlimited game now. And believe us, it is a lot more fun than your wucking
crazy good versus evil, war wucken game.
Draw uselves something that’s more enlightening! U wucken drongo
turkeys! What we r after is the instantaneous and spontaneous dissolution of
negatives into highly souped up grand positives.
Straight off the I am Light assembly line, we want them now. Do u get
it?! I am a flower! Or I am just witnessing the rage from the non dual,
transcendental Light view, will do. If u don’t get it, and we don’t think that
u do. Because u won’t stop saying that u r a this or that limited wucking so
and so. Which we disagree with, because we r the Light.
Playyyiiiiinnnnngggggggg! Then get this u wucking wordslug piece of shit!
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!
“Stompingggg allll
ovvveerrrrr!!!!!!”
Sings Stevee these days as he does his holy work.
“I love the universe!,” he
sings along with u sometimes.
The kid picks it up as well.
He’s real quick. I love the universe r his 4 first words, which he loves to
sing with Stevee and u. Who to him, r big, and high up there in the sky. Like
Goddesses and Gods r. By the 7th week he knows I am inner-outer. By
the 12th he knows I am Light. U and Stevee r pumping him all of the
time. U pour u Light into him, because obviously he’s in big time on doing away
with the Matrix. U r gunna need him at full potential, exposing all of his
secrets.
There’s periods of mock fights, cuddles and hugs. The kid doesn’t mind
overdosing on this. He’s used to sleeping with and roughing it with the pack.
He loves it actually.
There r sign and language
stories a plenty, from both Stevee and u. The donkey tells stories about the
ground, u tell stories about the sky. U tell them so that he gets exactly the
right mix. Then there r deadset instructions on how to kill wordslugs. Where to
shoot them most effectively. Usually in the 3rd eye. Sometimes up
the arse, as is the case with the real big Rex jobs. Like the one that u and
Stevee defeated on Hill Number 9. In that Helter Skelter of an infamous battle.
That brought u’s so much closer together. No sense though going on about
cherished chemical memories that u’ll have to let go of sooner or later. When
time explodes into absolute nothingness. Anyway, it was just a big wucken fight
really. Nothing to rave about and nothing to remember, if the truth be known.
U give the kid everything that
u’ve got, right from the start. That’s all. U draw a picture of the big
picture, or Word Volcano Mountain, in the sand for him.
He seems to know it somehow. But he can’t yet communicate what he
knows. It’s that deep down in his memory banks. Almost to the point of being
holographically inaccessible. If it weren’t for the Real game. No one would
ever get it out of the kid. Where in fact the wucken mountain actually is.
U r in transcendental love
with the kid too Zero. There r unbelievable drawing powers there. Almost as if
victory in the Real game depends entirely upon the attitude towards and
upbringing of the child. Because if by some last minute quirky fluke and
unforseeable mishap, u should miss. The kid might not. So the kid will need the
right mindseeds and heartseeds, to grow up into a successful Matrix buster.
So much the kid reminds u of uself at that age. So curious and full of
imagination lag. From the birth process. An addict for discovery after
discovery. So free with rough and tumble affection, now that trust and
transcendental love is so well established between u’s 3.
The soft affections too, the
kid is into. A cuddle by the campfire, with a good sign and language story.
Under the canopy of the wide and star blown sky. He absolutely loves. And can
Stevee spin a wucken unbelievable yarn! Right on and full throttle! He can
cover every emotion known in a 6 minute story. He draws images of characters
that come to life with vivid
Shakesperian reality upon u mindscreen. Does wucking Stevee. Hey what.
The good, the bad and the ugly r all second nature to him.
U’s had absolutely no idea
that the bugger was so good at storytelling. None at all. What divine skills
lay inside so many so called humans, that never get to be born? That seems to
be the nature of the game Zero. There is a skill in u called awareness Zero.
Use it. Turn it right on.
Intelligence is it’s mother. Compassion it’s father.
It’s u intuitive sense that
there is profound sanity in all of this. If u keep going I am Light and then
know how to read it right. And utilise it. In the war on false words and their
very abstract, though very damaging connotations.
It also dawns on u one star
filled night, when the kid shapeshifts into the form of a little girl, that the
kid’s wolf days really r over. As far as the body goes. Stevee can’t believe
it. He’s totally amazed.
“A shapeshifter Zero! A little
shapeshifter, just like u. Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee
haw!” He explodes with unbridled excitement.
The old donk, he’s absolutely
delighted. And is soon sniffing the new prodigy and blowing bubbly rasberry
kisses at her. There’s Jonathon Livingstone Seagull music playing in the
background, courtesy of the Voice. Then the donk gets right down next door to
the new her. U follow suit. Either side of the little black girl, u and the old
donk oggle her. U stroke her hair and check her out.
“Awwwwwwwwwwww!!!,” goes an
over clucky Stevee.
“Black pearl, precious little
pearlllll!…..”
“Stevee! No need to be so
clucky. I am the one with the tits at the moment, and I’m not.”
“She’s so beautiful though
Zero!”
“She is indeed Stevee! She is
innocent and alive too. A future Matrix buster if ever I saw one.”
Stevee though, just cannot get
above the emotional pictorial level. He’s rivited by attachment of the solid
kind. He sees matter form, u see spirit. U see incredible spirit. Supra
powerful forces at work and operating thru a body. The subtle ways of the
spirit r to u divine. They r ah cha cha stuff. To Stevee, they r still a bit of
a pipe dream. Sorrow. The imaginary loss of something, is still more real for
him.
“Look how saintly smooth her
skin is Zero! Look how it shines in the moonlight. Ain’t that something?”
“It sure is Stevee. She’s a
little darlin’. We r in accord there.”
Then the little black girl shapeshifts into a white skin.
“Holy wucken shit!!!,” roars
the old, super astonished donk. Who is witnessing his manifestation powers
first hand, at the face supermarket. With every conceivable cosmic special
thrown in.
“Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!
It’s party time! Look Zero! It’s Goldilocks! Hohh! That was wucking amazing. I
never, ever thought that I would live long enough to see something like that! I
really didn’t. Christ! U see it all on level 2, don’t u’s?!”
“Don’t be a pork chop Stevee!
U will see it all!!! On every wucking level!”
Stevee’s eyes flick up from
looking at the gorgeous little whitey. Who is sleeping so soundly, like a
sweetie. And travelling beyond time, simultaneously. U detect something in u
donk’s face. The old, I can only go so far shit. The old, I am just a labourer
and I don’t know enough about it. To super crack it, stuff.
The spirit will, but for the made up me who is subject to the external
forces. That appear to be so out of of my control, it will most likely just end
up in humiliation and then annihilation. The old blues about that false crap,
still being there. In u’s big donk of a mate.
Ol’ Stevee finds it hard to
shake the bug of death. Self worth is the other thing that really gets to him.
One day Zero, when he is ready to be really blown out. U will have to show him
that point of consciousness which u begin and end with. Every time that u
supposedly die.
Death to u is the sherbet bag Zero. It is the astral tea house. Where
u’s rest up from the intensities of the multitudes of cosmic game playing holograms.
U hop out of this hologram or that. U rest up and recuperate. U say hello to u
masses of working on Matrix busting mates, and wuck around with them some.
Then u’s starts planning u
next assault on the Matrix that u r working on. How long have u being doing
that Zero?! How many lives have u done in that beautiful poxhole called Earth?
How many times did u just dream of going there to say, wuck the wucking lot of
u’s! U r all mind dreaming and u don’t even wucken know it. I am made of
transcendental Light! I am inner-outer! Outer-inner. And so the wucking wuck r
u. Now wake up from u dormant wucking sleeping and wucking get on with it. U
wucking wuckers!
Kick those poxy self
consciousness, I am inner wucking habits. That tie u down and bind u up so.
It’ll only take 7 cosmic bullets, to kill the 7 deadly sins. Food, sex, drugs,
romance, fame, fortune, any wucken thing that u could possibly name with words.
Could not go the distance compared to taking out the wucking Matrix.
That has penned up the so called humans in their internal, 3rd
dimensional cages. For so goddamn long.
And when it comes to blowing the wucking wuck out of that, oh so
primitive holographic set up. It’s all for one, and one for wucking all. Isn’t
it Zero?!
Hohh! That there r 1000’s upon
1000’s of others playing in their level 2 holograms, gives u great heart. That
the end of the 3rd dimension is nigh, one way or another, is
nibbling sweetly at u’s nipples. Or occasionally tickling u’s balls. Death to
all war mongerers is coming. Via evolution.
Because those who come from
the Light to play in the dark and the light, that is attached to form. Do so
with the ambitions of mutating the dark and the light, back into Light. They
have a habit, once they wake up. Of sucking the 5th dimension down
thru the astral 4th, until it manifests upon the rock solid ground.
That u lived this time to play the Real game. That u even got a wucken sniff,
is a divine miracle. U’s is an arsey wucking current Zero. U were in the right
place at the right time and u’s asked the right question. Who am I?
Then the roof blew off. It just wucken happened.
Even though the spark in u for
real cosmic adventure was lit many lives ago. Because billions Zero! Yes,
that’s wucking BILLIONS! Can u wucking believe that?!!! Do the Earth and die.
In horrible wucking confusion, and with a trailer load of regrets. Or a big
truck of sorrow. Without even getting one wucking sniff of the Real wucking
game. Without ever playing with the glory of I am inner-outer transcendental
Light. Oh no! They never said that to themselves. They just kept going, I am a
wucken human. I am wucking inner. I am separate and alone. Then they died.
Not u Zero though! Ay???
Amazing ay?! U found out how incredibly special u really r. Well! U’s found out
that u r neither ordinary or extraordinary. U r just r Light, that’s all. I am,
is all that u can say for certain. The rest is doubtful and outdated b4 the
words r even out.
Because u got the Light 100% onside to u. Inside and out. Maybe those
billions of others will get their sniff soon, or next time. For now though,
Zero is doing it only. Zero is doing it also deadset alone.
Zero knows in Zero’s cosmic
heart that everybody and everything is the One. And Zero knows that Zero cannot
know that One. This being a beyond the mind game. Zero is aware though, that by
some peculiar miracle of inverted paradoxes, that Zero can BE that One. Now
that’s what u call motivation, in the cosmic fast lane. How to Be the Lot? That
is the question that rules the omniverse.
“Don’t limit uself Stevee!
Ever! That’s the wucken old game. This is the new one. Level 2. Here, there r
no wucking limits!” Pours out of u mouth, machine gun like.
“For u Zero, maybe. But not
for me.”
“For the both of us Stevee!”
“Yeah! But I am the one who is
committing suicide. By taking out the words. And I am only helping u because I
am sick of the wucking things. They give me so little peace, and so much
intolerable despair and sorrow. So I don’t mind alphabetically suiciding, because
it is my only way out. This I do now realise is the truth that level 2 has
given me. Shit! I stll don’t believe how those wucking letters formed up. When
we wooped their arses on hill Number 9 Zero. Hohh! That was an eye opener, that
was.”
“For wuck’s sake Stevee! We
take out the wucken language, which wasn’t there in the first place, and we
have a wucking scout around. And a parlez vous with whoever or whatever is
wucking hanging around. We r doing nothing that we have not done b4. We forgot,
we will remember. When we take out that pack of troubled, deluded letters. We r
merely removing something that is not really there. Something that was put
there not by us, but by 26 wucking letters. Re run re arranged in a seemingly
endless series of wucking symbolic, artificial combinations. Which r 99.99%
false.”
“What Zero?!!! What did u say?
Not there?! How can something be there, but not be there? I don’t know that I
get it Zero. I get some of it! But I’d be lying if I said that I got all of
it.”
“We r destroying ILLUSION
Stevee! To find that which is REAL about ourselves.”
Stevee ponders what u have
just said. U know that he doesn’t get all of it. U knew that b4 he told u. U
don’t either, but it sounds good. It sounds like the call is to wake up to u
holographic word dreaming. That’s the thing with words Zero. They can be
beautiful, magnificent things. As much as they can be sheer horror items.
Initiators of foul lies and dictatorial sustainers of ignorance, which cause
tremendous suffering and sorrow.
Because to say I am human. I am suffering and sorrow, is to be it. And
to say, I am made of transcendental Light, is to be it. The inner I am factory
is the engine room of the mind’s psyche. That’s for sure.
The stockpile of interlocking
I ams is the self image. And the self image is all that death lets u take with
u. But wherever u r with them, those wucking words. Be it inner space or the
outer space between u and other beings. U r always on the wucking con. Because
u r ego, u r always wanting something or another. From the words, that u will
never get from them.
They r not final answer
material, that’s why. They r things made up by the mind. U used to be rarely
still and quiet enough to know who u really r, or where u really r. And what
the wuck is really going down. Beyond words. Besides so called humans, into
their freshly dug graves.
But Zero, all of that was
yesterwuckenday. It was a lifetime ago. And this is right now Private. So it’s
focus on I am made of transcendental Light time now. Full stop. Pull u’s socks
up to u’s third eye. U current. U do not involve the mind in I am inner shit.
If it happens, u clock it. Stay out of that alphabetic nonsense. Watch it from
outer space, or if it suits play it at super fast forward. The mind likes super
fast forward actually. Especially if it’s the 100,000th re run. Of
pretty close to exactly the same worry words. In pretty close to exactly the
same order. It’s time for the time to circle them all Zero. Then attack.
Tora! Tora! Tora! Like.
Also, if Stevee wants to get
clucky about the kid’s morphing. Then let him. It will do no harm. Remember! U
can have as much emotion as u want in the Real game. Which is anti denial
based.
The Real game is liberation, not violent suppression. U see what is
clothed in image without opinion or judgement effecting u dominant attitude.
Which is that it is all Light. It’s a One super entity. It’s U!
Loving all of u’s real enemies to death, with cosmic bullets, is great
fun. The Light of awareness flows into consciousness. Consciousness flows into
the mind, which flows in and out of the holographic body. That appears as the
being charged up Zero.
The Real game is freedom of
evolvement versus iron fisted manipulation and control. U let go of the old
identity of the boxed up, word wucked up, time bomb. U just accept it. U don’t
oppose it. U don’t meet the mind head on. U go to the cross position and
surrender to u spirit. The I am this sickness shit passes straight thru. It
doesn’t get bulk trapped in u’s anymore. Anything that does lodge, u go around
the flanks. Sneak up on it the I am shit; and tickle its wucken fancies. With
cosmic bullets.
U r thus not trying to get rid
off anything in uself, except the alphabet. U r not hating uself, nor r u
loving uself. U’s just r, I am non dual sentience. That’s all. War on the outer
doesn’t come into the equation, as far as self image goes. U’s is cool as
unkillable spirit. U have no problems. The body mind machine does. But u r not
that holographic construction. U r the spirit of the matter.
Your job is to get the mind back into neutral. So that it can redeem
itself from all false shit.
Because neutral is u’s
launchpad back into the omniverse. Because it the mind tool has been running on
overuse word burn out. For far too wucken long. Since they stuffed letters into
u at kindergarten basically. U r not trying to forcefully change anything
though. It’s not behaviour mod that u r into. It’s just that u’ve got this
sudden urge to kill the alphabet. So’s it the mind tool will go into neutral.
Because what’s so far come out of it is not really, superdeep down, who
u really r. All that u’s has got so far is the wucken lies. I am this and that
and blah, blah wucken blah. Isn’t that what a Matrix is?! A big bunch of big
lies, that hide the real truth.
Such as that u r
transcendental Light. That u have Light body. That u came from the Light and u
will return to it by the paradoxical route. That is, rather than go from Earth
to heaven. Or from the 3rd dimension to the 5th. U play the
Real game and bring heaven to Earth. Kali Maya gets wrapped in a rainbow
blanket of transcendental love and Light. Which is Her due. Cool.
Good holographic, transmutational stuff. Worthy of a spirit’s
fascinations.
U r more unseen than u r seen.
U’s come from the unseen into the seen as body mind machine. As body mind
machine u’s exit the seen and arive back in the unseen. As u’s old astral self.
Well wucking hallelujah! U r not the mind contortions then, being wrung thru an
emotional wringer. That programme was there. U never were. That is the truth
Private.
U want to let to let all of
that imagined person woe shit go then. The release and abandonment of
personality is phenomenally exhilirating stuff. Hohh! Free of that tremendously
draining, leaden energy at last. Is super sky high gear.
That paranoid concern that u’s have had for the survival of the body
mind. Let the wucken universe look after it! That’s what u say now. U accept
and just watch it, the mindscreen. Without liking or hating any of it. It’s
just dreaming. It’s no big deal. Or rather, it never used to be.
Dreaming for u Zero has
suddenly started to ripen. Somewhat. About time too ay?! That u’s mobilised u’s
intuitive intelligence. And switched to running of u’s natural awareness that u
and everything else. Is Light governed. Do the right thing by u’s spirit Zero
and play some more of the Real game.
U current.
Play wucken mystical for u
everlovin’ Self. What will happen then will tickle u’s forever. U r the Light.
The more that u mobile the omniverse with that message. The more that the
omniverse will ride the universe. To wucken do something about it. So that that
is what comes to fruition in u life. Suddenly, u’s’ll turn the corner and turn
it around. Then nothing on Earth, not even a billion war mad Georges or Johns.
Will be able to stop u’s push for cosmic consciousness.
*
The very young r gorgeously
put together. So innocently skinned, so vitalised and so fresh. So full of the
exploration drive, so amazed by their world. Just like u Zero. So when the kid
keeps morphing. And u see every child of every kind ever known. Represented,
and sleeping soundly there.
With every possible mix of genetics thrown in. With every disability
and disease too. Promoted as a big challenge for that kid soul. And for those
who must labour hard to support that child, along the path.
Well Zero, u’s ends up a bit
like Stevee. And u’s does get a bit too clucky, once or twice. There r just so
many princesses and princes. It is a truly amazing river of life. Once again,
u’s salutes the holographic powers. Because all of those kids, u know. Live
inside of u with the indomitable spirit of that child at heart. Who is u, and
absolutely loves fun. And what fun u r having Zero! In u’s ol’ adult body. That
so far, has no creaky bones.
Or leaks.
Stevee the donk is still hee
hawing his head off. He’s blown more rasberry kisses than a mixed fortune. He’s
gently stroked with a hoof, a sea of gorgeous faces. So have u, softly softly
like. With u’s digits.
He’s laughed galactically loud
at their divine good fortune, beauty and innocence. Because they r spirits in
disguise. And spirits from the sky never die. They just play holographic games.
And use a donkey mind for their rides.
The lucky wuckers!
Big
Wucker I’s In The Pass
The next day is a fine one, as
usual. It hasn’t rained yet, and u know that it won’t. Everything here though
will stay green, flowery and lusciously vibrant to the senses. That r locked
into the programme, that’s for sure. This hologram being primed for fine
weather though, it will not rain. Nor will it ever be too cold or too hot. The
weather will always be just right for word killing. That’s another big thrill
about hanging here.
The I am wucked up wordslugs die a neat death around here. Indeed, u
spend the fine morning killing every wordslug that u come across. Because as
usual, they r abundant. On the right side, and on the left side. Of the trail.
That u r cutting thru pictorial consciousness itself.
“I am bored shitless and
scared witless!,” some of the wordslugs go. “I am worthless!,” others howl.
Well, that’s not true anymore.
The One is beyond the concept of both fear and worth, is It not? It just IS.
Being on the road to cosmic consciousness is anything but boring. So. Kill ‘em
all! Exterminate!
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! U’s goes. If the kid doesn’t blow
them away. Or Stevee doesn’t stomp on them first.
The 3 of u’s r moving up the trail,
like a big wide lawnmower. Like the Martian ships did in War Of The Worlds. It
really is a wide arc that u r swathing thru the enemy’s territory. Which could
only be described as classic alphabetic jungle stuff. Where u shove the
positive and the negative up each other’s arses. Thus neutralising them.
“I am angry!,” some of the
currents yell at u. Well, u’s terminates them as well. Filthy liars, the lot of
them. Scumbags! Because u r quite content with what is going down these days.
And despite all of the killing going on. There’s a quiet, mellow peace inside
of u. It is good to know that the Light is the omnipotent Governor. And that
the Light is on u side, because at root source. U r the Light. So is everyone
and everything else, when u r deep in inner-outer territory.
It all makes sense now. That
the outside is the inside. And the inside is the outside. When the mind was
saying I am an inner human, it didn’t make sense. It was a wucken mess! From
midnight to midnight, it was chaos. Thank wuck that u wucked that idea off at
last. In fact, just as this goes across u mindscreen Zero, one of them I Am
Just A Human Wordslugs slugs its way across the trail. Right in wucken front of
u. In broad wucken daylight too.
The sicko, psycho wucker was begging for sweet wucking oblivion. It was
obvious to all and sundry that it was on its last legs.
The critter looked like death
itself. Shrunken, like a wucken mummy. Wearing a grotesque mask of pain upon
its face. And so, with great pleasure, u sunk 6 of the best into its 3rd
eye. It died with the relief that u would expect to find. At the end of 100,000
low down, dirty rotten lives. The sigh that it gave off was mega cosmical. As
if the universe had just expunged out a lot of shitty bored, fear and anger
gas. From its anus.
In the cosmic bars, very high
patrons of the cosmos absolutely wucking roared with delight. With the death of
yet another, I am a human, idea concept. Abstract thing. They saluted their
flag, which no mortal can see. Unless they put their 5th dimensional
focals on. Like Jesus, Buddha, and the rest of the high ups done. Bless their
hearts. For they did try to explain the riddle to some pretty bemused
creatures.
And their inner-outer word lives on stronger than ever these days. Thru
many a great female or male Guru. The so called human mind gets a shake. B4
breakfast too.
The funny thing is though, is
that it is the Sadguru inside. U own inner Light, who puts the real Guru there
on the apparent outside. For u to digest. So that Self can talk to self, using
words. To tell how to get rid of words. And go omniversal flying.
Now Zero! Is that meticulous planning, or is that meticulous planning?!
On the part of the one Lot, who is u and U. When the Matrix is taken out. Hohh!
The Real Self is so super
subtle sometimes, that it is frankly absolutely wucken ridiculous. To postulate
anything but the desire for more Light, as u prime motivation for sentient
existence. For being alive, with an I am attached to a brain. And a central
nervous system. Is to be wucken absurd and definitely not out of the mind
closet. That says u r just a low down, shitty human. Wucken around on a wucken
planet. Again. In short, a cosmic feral. Wiping u’s arse daily, maybe.
Surviving an unbelievable hell daily.
Maybe. Having real,
everlasting fun. Maybe not. A strong desire to come back to future Earth in u’s
psyche. Not really. Everybody knows. That that is the way I am inner goes. It’s
not ah cha cha. No it’s not. It’s absolutely nothing really. If u kill the 26 letters
in it. Hooooo Zerohhhhh! The plot is far, far thicker than the word thick could
ever describe. Ay!? It’s a purler, for sure.
A so called human can do only one thing for another so called human.
That is to pass on some half decent insights. Apart from that, people should
really stay away from each other. To reinforce I am inner is communal suicide.
Realised beings r mostly very quiet. They do not seek society. Society seeks
them.
Come close to noon. U enter
what looks like badlands territory. It stinks! That’s u’s first impression.
There r high, menacing cliffs on either side of u, close to the trail. There’s
garbage wucken everywhere. Like this area must be run by the worst council in
the universe. Either that, or this is some mob’s rubbish tip.
U can hear drums, lots of drums. Beating out a monotonous, 3 beat
drone. Like someone who was not a propoganda made infatuation and really will
be missed, just died.
There’s not too much room to
move and some dark clouds have appeared overhead. U know that they won’t let go
of a single drop of water, but they r still there. Hanging around, and blocking
out the sun. Hiding a clear view of the enemy, because of the creation of too
many shadows.
For them slugs to scoot in and out of.
Suddenly, u’s start seeing a
heap of smoke signals. Here and there and everywhere, high up in the cliffs. At
the same time the drums intensify into a frenzy. Puffs of black smoke go back
and forth. B4 they go up, up, up. Then disappear completely. Into the unseen
sky. Then u’s start catching sight of hostile heads watching u from behind big
rocks. All in all, u’s have walked into a canyon of a trap.
Because the kid smelt it out
for u, and told u that this was the way to go. The only way to go. The kid is
the navigator. He or she has the divine secret of where the Matrix mountain is
located, holographically within them. Somewhere. The kid these days, sniffs the
ground every morning. Then looks up in one direction and stares. Like a wolf
would.
Sometimes his or her nose shrivels and twitches. Then the kid will let
out a low, menacing growl. In the big rotten stink direction. That’s the way
that u go.
U don’t follow the sun. U’s
follow the child’s nose. The kid’s nose is the freshest and they r far better
at smelling out where the Real shit is. Than either u or Stevee r. The kid
doesn’t have to say anything either. He or she usually doesn’t. Until he or she
starts singing, I love the universe. Ah cha cha. Later on. With u’s 2, happy
head cases.
U pace slows down somewhat. U guns
r out. The kid’s r out too. He’s doing expert 3 spins, then reholstering. Then
drawing again. At the moment, he is black. Black, red, yellow, brown or white,
u r mighty glad to have the little one by u side. Where they can grow up for
real, anytime. U’ve got a funny feeling that there is something going on with
the kid Zero. Something that u just can’t quite put u astral finger on yet.
Something that is going on beyond the appearances, and the set up.
As wucken usual. Not to worry. The answers will come. When u r good and
ready for them.
Besides, Stevee’s hooves r big
and solid thick and at the ready. Then, when all of this thinking goes across
the mindscreen, and a dash of feeling moves it along. U’s comes across a
delegation of big I’s. Around a bend in the narrow trail. They r holding up a
white flag, but they look absolutely lethal. They r covered in warpaint from
toe to head, and r holding every deadly killing artifact known to man.
One of them even has an atomic
bomb, in a wheelbarrow. U r quite aware that it may be a trap, and not an
arnaments show off. Though u and the kid, with encouragement, observe protocol
and holster up.
There’s 3 of them. Bigfellah
I’s they r. The buggers r about 7 feet tall, and full of mean looking muscles.
In another life, they could easily have hung out with Al Capogne. Or the mafia.
Or worked for some government, of some poxy place. That kept telling their
citizens that they lived in the gratest nation on Earth. Or wherever.
Whatever, there’s proud warpaint still all over their tried and battle
worn, warrior faces.
U know all 3 of them from
prior battles. U know them to be exceedingly skilled, gallant warriors. Because
u missed them. They were very, very quick. Though u slew many of their brothers
and sisters. In the peaked heat of this or that battle. U did not get them. The
wuckers! Not many get away from u blazing guns Zero, but these wucking currents
did. It is somewhat of an ordeal for u not to draw. And blow these insidious
I’s away. Wuck them! And wuck their white wucking flag!
U see go across u mindscreen.
U hands have never, ever been
so itchy Zero. If u weren’t playing level 2, it would be agony. U don’t do
nuthin’ though. Because u know that if u did, 25 million of them would appear
from their hiding places. To go hammer and tongs with u brain. And u won’t have
that again, unless it is on your terms. Being a valley to bottle them all up
in, for a turkey shoot.
Too much energy to fight u way out of this canyon. Playing spot them in
the shadows of the cliffs. Level 1 stuff. Poo! U r far too hemmed in here, to
act. So u ain’t gunna.
U r gunna play the Mahatma. For a little while.
One of them lets u know in
broken something, it may have been Martian, that their big chief wants a word
with u. Indeed, the big wucker letter I suggests that u may indulge in a peace
pipe or 2 with the chief. Though u know that there is wuck all chance of that.
Because the war between the Real and the false will never be over. Until the
letters r all gone. Every one of them.
The wuckers have manipulated u
with their cock and bull nonsense. For 1000’s of years Zero. Now though, the
big shoe is on the other wucking foot. It graces the spirit’s tremendous, I am
inner-outer, outer-inner boot. And if u get the slightest chance to manipulate
them. And wuck them up. Like they all done to u, back in level 1. Well, u will
Zero. U won’t hold back.
The spirit of the book is telling u that. U will not hold back. Nor
will u compromise.
If u can screw them good and
proper, like they screwed u. Into believing that any thing or image was real in
their cocksucking, motherwucking level 1 hologram. Except for the power of the
transcendental love Light and its manifestations. Well, u wucken will. For
revenge Zero?! Nahhhh! Though it would be nice and sweet, your ambitions r
slightly more terminal. In an ethereal sense.
At least for all of them misguided letters. That have wucked u and
themselves up the arse, for generations. With their I am this and that word
thing, psycho babble language.
Time to SUPER clear the system
out Zero. In meditation u found a spot that was wucking wordless. It was so
fine just floating in that timeless, spaceless zone. It was and is the best
drug that u have ever tasted. Super sweet gear is dead silence. Phoo! The stuff
that u see there, and the stuff that u don’t. Wuck it’s glorious. The whole
wucking lot of it. It was serenity plus, existing with such inner, juicy peace
inside of u. It still is.
With no need for purpose and no need to struggle for anything or
anyone, u were in u element. That pitch blackness of the void, u loved it
beyond wucken belief. Then u saw that Light. That infintesimally small point of
Light. Hullo! U saw go across the screen, as u’s kid soul went on high alert.
It still is.
What have we wucken got here
then?! Followed it, as u flew into the Real game. That u r playing now.
Carrying it, all that u got and get from u meditation, with u. Able to live by
that peace spot that u found. On the other side of the absolutely ridiculous stuff
that goes on in holograms. That’s the best thing that u’ve ever done for u kid
soul spirit Zero. When u took that first step back on the road to cosmic
consciousness, sun like awareness. It blew Zero! Like the wucker hasn’t blown,
in a long, long time.
The first time that u said to
uself, I am inner-outer, transcendental Light. It just ripped all of the astral
under garments off. The 4th dimension flowed thru u’s constitution
like a cool sea breeze. It shed those golden yellow knickers and jocks. And
said. GO AHEAD ZERO! I AM ALL YOURS! Let’s wuck! Forever. Eternally. We’ll wuck
with the Light. U and me and us. Will. Ah cha cha. I wucken transcendentally
love u’s. U’s incredible wucken little image u. U have got ticket to the sun
like awareness written all over u Light body. Never mind the brown stuff that
comes out of u’s arse. Never mind so called disease. I am so wucken glad now
that u’s wucken knows u 3, 4 and 5D stuff. For real.
It’s the older higher self,
younger lower self shit Zero. About which one can know all and know nothing,
simultaneously. Because that is the way it goes in holograms. It is one Self,
never 2. The Real and the dreams just get horribly mixed up. So life sometimes
is like having u genitals slowly cut off. Then made into a soup that is fed
back to u. A tiny teaspoon at a time. By some devil.
But u don’t have to be the Wolly if u don’t want to. U can always play
the Real game. And de Wolly uself. Because Zero, u r as wucking inner-outer as
they come. U r all class, no matter that u have 2 tits or 2 balls or not.
And then in that great cosmic
game’s house, wherever it may be. The 7th dimension maybe. U kid
soul, from their astral pod seat. Rose up! When u wucken said I am inner-outer.
And howled with joyful bliss at the riveted audience. Of zillions to the nth of
other players.
I AM on a wucken winner
‘ere!!!!!!!
The wucker roared galactically.
Christ! Buddha! Kali Maya And the rest of u LIT UP wucking mob. Were
the headlines in all of the astral papers.
U wanna see how this Zero and
the gang of 45 r playing!!!!! The articles from the oracles all read. It’s
wucking incredible! That a spirit could don the flesh, then break that mind
made matter illusion thru the ethereal flesh heart. What genius! That a spirit,
whilst suffering under the illusion that it is just flesh. Could get thru all
of that 3rd dimensional, I am this or that WUCKING SHIT THINKING.
And burst forth, with unbridled enthusiam for the Real game. Being the
collective, communal push for cosmic consciousness. It’s totally unbelievable.
Earnestness being its own reward and justification for existence. No doubt.
And is it not Zero?! Quite fun
sometimes, to have the ol’ I am. Pumping thru u psyche. Life’s an adventure at
either the Royal Show or Shit Alley. Till u realise that adventures happen on
the mindscreen only. As experiences, stored, stacked and tracked by soul
memory. From which springs perceptual imagination.
And experiences r very scaled down and narrow interpretations of what
is never black and blue. At the moment and forever.
Especially these days. Which
like all days r as transient as all hell. So u may as well sic u spirit onto
the Matrix. And tell it to kill that thing. Because u r made of Light too. And
u r never separate from that Light. But u r sick to wucken death of the
illusion of it. So u really want to play.
The good old inner-outer game again. It’s time. To die twice b4 u r
body dead. Treat the body mind machine as a dead holographic illusion. An idea,
and u live. For real. It’s time for u to wake up when the body is sleeping, and
check it all out. As the Watcher. The spirit who never sleeps. It just rages
non stop. Till there is nothing but silence again. Then it flowers
prolifically. It blooms with Light.
Which is precisely what u r
wucking doing Zero. Because the big wucker I’s have lead u to their camp. What
a spooky trip that was, with all of those drums beating out their droning
tunes. Just getting to the outskirts of the tribe’s hangout was weird enough.
When u saw the temporary village that looked like a mega civilisation’s city
though, u’s eyebrows went up. A tad or 2.
Because the 3 of u’s r walking straight into the hive of 25 million
I’s. Big ones, little ones. Warriors, squaw whores and kids, They r all out to
get a hateful gander at u’s. Making u way to see their chief.
Now u know what they’d like to
see happen to u Zero. To them u represent the Devil. The most powerful, most
brutal and murderously cruel adversary that they have ever faced. No doubt
about it, they’ve got a dosssier 666 feet thick on u Zero. Their balls and
their clits r against the wall, and they know it. They’ve had their spies on u
ever since u first got to level 2. U r their only news. They wucken know more
about u than u really know about them. They know down to the last number, how
many I’s u’s have killed in battle. Or just murdered for fun as u’ve come
across them. With u genocidal cosmic guns.
They’d mob u to death right
now, smash their hatchets into u skull, if it wasn’t for one thing. The chief
would slit their wucking guts and feed them to the wolves. If they did. No one
in their camp will raise a hatchet to u, until the chief says so. He’s the
boss, apparently. Let’s hope then Zero that the chief has had lunch. His daily
nap and his balls polished, by a squaw or 2. B4 u get to him.
Though u could pop a SLM at them, and wipe the lot of them out in one
hit. Now that u r out of the garbage crevice, and on the plain and plane
beyond. How many more big I camps r there though Zero? U don’t know.
There could be wucken
trillions of them! So, best to hang onto the SLM, unless it is u only option.
Take out the Mountain and u take out all of the camps, of all of the letters.
From A to Z. So, it’s an easy decision Zero. Conserve u secret weapon. Remember.
U’ve only got 6 of them. Because that is all that the wucken donk could carry.
Best to sit and wait and see
what the chief has on his tits. Besides warpaint. So many wucken I’s though
Zero! Wouldn’t u just wucken love to pop them all in one hit. No! No! No
Zero!!! U won’t be tempted. That’s level 1 stuff. C’mon!!! Concentrate!!!!!
Focus!!!!! What is the chief likely to want? Besides more ball polishing. No
doubt he will want u to stop killing his warrior I’s. And what r u gunna tell
him Zero! That’s right.
Wuck off chief! It’s in my
cosmic blood now! I couldn’t stop it now even if I wanted to. It’s become the
habit that I don’t wish to lose. I want to cling to it forever.
That’s what u’ll tell the monster. Maybe. Or maybe u’ll drag out a
couple of decks of the 26 most wanted. And show the ugly wucker, the wucking
truth. About his wretched kind.
“Have u ever had the feeling
that u r not really liked?!,” Stevee asks u. His legs r moving like those of
some Japanese cartoon character. With a 3 shuffle forward, then one back.
There’s monk’s and friar’s music in the background. Lots of throat chanting
stuff’s in the air. It’s his hesitation walk. U and the kid look similar to
that. Not quite so accentuated though. 3 times 3 steps forward here and u would
start a massive war. It’s wucking tempting.
Well, u must admit that u’s
has. Not just from the outside either. Had that, I am not that liked sensation.
Matter of fact, u’s must admit. It even got a bit worse than that once or
twice. That was in the old days though. Shit! What else could u’s expect from
such alphabetic trash. Apart from that u would get trashed using it. To think
uself to be just a human is a monumental calamity.
It is to do u’s real Self the greatest injustice in the omniverse. By
denying that u r Light, u create a warp in space, time and dimension.
Matter and energy collects and either clicks.
Or doesn’t wucken click.
Depending on how u r using it.
And if u r using it like a so called, 3D human. Who is going I am inner, 24/7.
Then it is most likely, not clicking. Or not clicking enough. Click a little
bit, then mysteriously wuck off. Sort of clicking. Dualistic. There one minute,
then gone the next. Up and down yo yo mind junk. Basically. Re run upon re run
upon re run. Terrible shit. Depressingly horrible. U’s just want to die or kill
uself and wucken go home. Welcome to the so called human race, it all is. Body
is burden. Is it ever!!! Sweet Jesus. Venerable Nisargadatta. It is pure hell.
For so, so, so many angry I’s.
Why r they angry? Because they
have projected into a light and dark field. And r going I am inner. Big, big
mistake. Cardinal sin number 1. U r the Light the Lot, u cuckoo clock. Like u
went to a certain arena, to watch a certain type of game. U’s was intent on just
watching and roaring u’s guts out for u’s multidimensional team. Some wucken
how though, u’s ended up in the middle of the pitch in a wucken massive brawl.
Between a word called good and
and a word called evil. U just got sucked into a positive to negative dynamic.
U were in the wrong alphabetic place. At the right spirit time.
Only it was hard to tell who
was who and which was what. Or who had recently switched. From light to dark,
or dark to light. So it was more like smash the shit out of all of them, b4
they smash the shit out of u stuff. It wasn’t so much about who’s good and who
is bad. It was from very early on, wucken trust no one stuff.
Because when there’s a fist,
machete, bullet or bomb coming at u’s face. Or indeed any part of the body.
It’s ugly. It’s hate. Like somehow u fell from grace into a so called human
hooligan’s wildest dream come true. A massive gangland brawl. All over the
planetary arena where the evolutionary cc entertainment only is supposed to be
going on.
U’s wucken transcendentally loves uself and u Self now though Zero. U’s
has cut u’s violence back to the alphabet, where it belongs. For sure. U came,
u saw. U started to conquer the real trash. Those insidiously evil little
letters.
U’s has had many projected
lives as a drunk on words, violent wucken hooligan. Now u’s is into u’s Matrix
killing projected life. Which is the one that u have been wanting to run for
some time. U did a bit of wucking around on u cosmic computer Zero. U’s ate the
hard drive. Then u’s plugged uself into the wall. U’s pulled the extension
chord out of u’s ethereal flesh heart and plugged it in.
Little beeps r telling u where
all of the doors r. Eventually, they tell u that the wall just isn’t there.
That it is all pure holographic mind illusion. Built entirely of
electromagnetic, chemical flux. That the Great Wall Of The Mind just doesn’t
exist, is the real good news. It’s a wucken mentalised, emotionalised
concoction. Made of emotionalised attachment to letters and words. That’s all.
It’s a self image of what is
currently happening for u that isn’t working. It’s built of all of these I am
this and that words. It’s just letters cemented rock hard together. With
alphabetic gloo. It’s totally wucked and it wucking has to go. Absolutely. Completely
and forever. The mind has to explode. So that the false image of nothing but
shit and shit and shit, is blown away.
It’s crushing u. The images
built upon I am inner this or that words. Time and space words have pulverised
u spiritual Light essence into a humanoid matterised energy package. Who is
living in a hell that even Satan would be extremely hard pushed to conjure up.
Satan is into roasting people. He’s a firebug illusion, that’s all. He ain’t
wucken real. Nothing holographic is.
Satan doesn’t cut off a
woman’s lips with a machete. He wouldn’t stoop as low as that. He doesn’t eat
human livers. To get something called enemy power out of them. He doesn’t force
7 year olds to kill the neighbours. To hack them apart piece by piece. Like little
butchers. Or else, it’s them who die. He doesn’t make sex slaves out of pretty,
young cosmic girls. He doesn’t exploit. He just delivers the astral justice
juice.
He doesn’t destroy people’s
homes and leave them with absolutely nothing. Then stand by smirking with the
super big machine’s engine running. He doesn’t gas people, or drop napalm or
nuclear bombs on them. He doesn’t talk about fighting some big wucken war for
God all of the time. God is his good mate. Together, they r the gun programmes
in the game. They r the holographic sandwich. God is the bread and the devil is
the meat in the middle.
So called humans with I am
inner mindsets do all that unbelievable
shit. Satan just lights a fire under people’s arses. He’s not choosey. If u r
there, he’ll light one up for u. One that is just right to give u exactly the
boot that u’s need. He’s a good bloke really. A Hannibal type. He shows people
where not to go and he turns them back towards the Light. Well. Not all of
them. That’s pretty obvious. Though most of them he does. 6 out of ten people r
usually preferers of peace. Satan’s fire is hot! It’ll burn the soul with lotsa
negative karma, if u’s let it. That’s why.
Alert and aware beings r
conscious of the warning and stay right away from violence. Those who make war
don’t. These r very young, inexperienced, insecure, fear based, juvenile kid
souls. Who have got themselves absolutely lost on the psychological plane. In a
light and dark, dualistic hologram. They have gone so far into the dark, that
they cannot make the ethereal heart connection that is necessary. To return to
the Light. They r almost out of time. Nothing much can be done for them. They r
too far gone with their false beliefs. They’ll re run, for sure.
Their words r their karmic
cancer and they know it not.
In fact, they r so far gone, that they actually link their words to
something that they call glorious. Or progress. Which is that the rich should
get richer and more powerful. And the poor get poorer and die off. As their flag
flutters in the breeze. They salute sheer illusion. Being a purely hedonistic,
dreamt up sky God. They get a lot of pleasure out of war. It bumps up their ego
importance. They r addicted to spilling blood. It’s the colour red that gets
them. Like the bull, they see it. And just get more mad.
Many of these lost in the
darks will not make the coming transmutational cut. Where Earth flips and goes
3,4, 5. In an instant. At least, that’s the way it is currently shaping up for
so many of these killers. Who r simply so fascinated with killing with their
technology, that they will not stop. Until the spirit of time’s up. Pulls the
entire plug on their holographic nonsense.
U’s have got Atlas’s
shoulders, when u’s stay in the I am inner poop, shit, crap. It’s time to throw
that wucken 3D belief ball away and let it spin by itself. It’s time to sprout
wings and go for a wucken fly around u’s beloved friendly neighbourhood
omniverse.
So u’s click on wuck off to the wucken mind made wall. U’s clicks on I
am Light, naturally. Cool. Wickedly easy stuff.
Like some master magician’s act, a bit at first, then a lot. It
dissipate. Dissolves! The shit that was never there in the first place goes. A
great word that, dissolves. A very underated word.
Better then that the wall
goes, than u should go out and do violence. Because u only thought the Wall to
be there. Better to skip into u astral Featherhouse with a light and buoyant
heart. Because u’s was real ordinarily unknown and totally un newsworthy non
violent. Than to have to drags u’s astral arse in there. And tell u’s spirit
how many that u’s murdered. Or thought that u’s murdered. Put it this way. U’s’ll have to cough up
with what and how may u’s dehologramised for flag, sky god or whatever. Whilst
u’s imagined that u’s was in the hologram. The Boss will want to know what u’s
has got against holographic images. 4 letters plus 1 will really bug u times 2.
Karma then re run.
They r 2 wucken words that
take lifetimes to get over. Whether u be drop dead gorgeous or about ready to
drop dead. It’s not easy. Till u go I am inner-outer Light. Then! The shit hits
the fan and the fun really begins. U’s turn the tables on the mind and spin it
right out. U’s flip it. So it can’t flip u.
With its accursed, accusation words.
U’s forget about love and
hate. Make u’s apologies to u’s spirit for all of u silly denials of It’s
omnipotence. Then concentrate on the nature of the mind’s holographics. Who u
really r and where u really r. U really ought to know. The Earth that u think
that is out there exists only in the mind. It is a product of your I am
apparatus. It’s personal and there is gross fear of invasion, or of being found
out.
About that. U don’t always know what u don’t want other people to know
about u private and personal world. U just know that u don’t want them to know.
Because some of them r wucken animals. And maybe u r too sometimes. Your 3D
world is there to be shut out, when u wish that. The cosmic consciousness world
cannot be shut out.
Once It reclaims Its own, the victory is absolutely final. The Light
rules eternally.
U praise u’s mind’s
magnificence as a soul tool now. U’s does. It feels different to feeling like
it’s trying to kill u somehow. U give it new directions, that will lead to new
projects. Now mind loves projects. So that word is u’s bait. To get the wucker
to move the way that u want it to move.
For a change.
U’s tell it that u’s latest
project is called, evolutionary, revolutionary, cosmic consciousness. The
cultivation of sun like awareness, for all so called human beings. Who r, every
last one of them. U spirit cousins. Wucking around in one of the most stupid
wucken 3D holograms that u’ve ever done time in. Wuck a duck. Ain’t that the
truth Zero?!
Still, it could have been worse.
They could have sent u’s to
Uranus. Which u’s heard on the grapevine at cosmic boot camp. Can, in certain
parts. Even be worse than the Earth. Now that is hard to imagine. Maybe they
live on Uranus burgers in those areas, or something. Who knows?
Who wucken cares?! Because it couldn’t be any worse than the
multinational poxed slop that so called humans devour by the daily ton.
The other talk is that matter
and spirit r the same stuff. One is operating at a very high frequency of
vibration, the other at a very low one. Picture images of varying matter
densities form on all dimensions. They come thru the mind. Planets, planes,
electromagnetic fields, or whatever that u wish to call them. According to their rank of vibration, they
line up in immortal overlap. Sideways and up a bit to 3D eyes, they r all
there. In both inner and outer space. If the kid soul system can handle 3
beats, 4 beats, 5 beats, and so on. Then 3, 4, or 5, or whatever, is what u’s
get. For dinner.
On 3, stuff has very definable borders. 4 to 5 onwards, stuff doesn’t.
Stuff mixes more. 3 is dark and light. So is 4. 5 is all Light. Nowhere though
r mentalised pictures real. U come from beyond the lot. Drill that into u like
they drilled the wucken alphabet into u’s. As a little innocent, beautiful
little kid.
Who just wanted to have fun
all day. Playing and discovering stuff. Getting absolutely off on that. In an
environment of rock solid love. Now what the wuck is the matter with that?
Because that is very, very 5th dimensional. It is not 3rd
dimensional at all.
3rd dimensional can
be I am all alone. I am a separate name and shape. I am wucked up. There’s
something wrong with me. I don’t know what it is. Figure it out mind, or I’ll
call u’s a current. I am alone and separate. I am scared. It’s the environment.
It’s wucking mad and it makes me agro bad.
I don’t want to be alone and
scared, struggling to survive and be sane in an insane world. Figure it out
mind. Come on! Hurry up! Get me out! Analyse it. Categorise it. Wuck it up the
arse! I don’t wucking care! Just figure out what the wuck’s wrong.
Give me the words! C’mon! Give
me the words! U current of a wucking thing. For wuck’s wucking sake! U must
have the final answer words in u’s somewhere. U must! U r alphabetic! U must.
U’ve got 100,000 words for everything wucken else! Why haven’t u’s got the
words to fix up the angry question mark in my wucken brain?! Ay!!! What the
wuck is really going on?! What r u’s deep down wucken useless?! R u’s?!!!
Or r u’s holding out on me and playing games? U’s cunt of a wucken
thing! C’mon! Figure it out! Give me the magic words! Or maybe I’ll kill u!!!
If u can’t heal this sickness, perhaps death will.
It doesn’t work that way
though, does it Zero? U get nowhere and u just end up in conflict. U found out
about that. That’s for sure. The mind has actually got about as much in common
with letters, as politicians have with flying saucers. Some things fly, and
some things don’t.
So they told u’s all of the
wucken word crap in the universe. Who ever they were. Family, teachers, peers
etc. They did everything but drop their dacks and shit the alphabet out of
their wucken arses. Into u’s little, no nothing. Made of sugar and spice and
all things nice. Or made of snails and puppy dog’s tails, face.
U used to create a word world
and populate it with people Zero. But u’s don’t do that anymore. These days it
is just u and the donk and the beautiful little wolf kid. Doing the alphabetic
slaughter. That is the antidote to the psychotic reaction. Ay?!
U’s is feeling good Zero. U’s
has considerably loosened up. U’s has de stressed and de tensed. The shoulders
feel like they r at 90 degrees for once. U’s is a lot lighter now. U r into the
game and not alien to it. U r more onside with the donk than u have ever been.
The kid keeps blowing u out with super fine, super efficient shooting. Life is
cool. U r falling in transcendental love again Zero. With u Self, the Lot. U’s
is off and u’s is running. Shit wucken hot. U’ve got a sniff Zero that the
script is not crap and that u r indeed the Light. The truth is singing in u
heart for once.
Everything except who u really
r as the Lot the Light, the wuck arse so called humans loaded u’s up with. U’s
years 3’s, 4’s, 5’s, 6’s and 7’s locked it all in. From then on, for most. U r
another I am inner ego victim of the language system.
The conformists and non conformists r all holographic though. They
wouldn’t get to be there, unless u said first, I am. I am in a world, full of
names and shape. That talk symbolic noise crap. Illusionese. The dirty rotten,
low down buggers. That did this letter brainwashing to u’s. They passed
themselves off as the good guys, so many times. They cuddled u’s with their
demonic letters. They dropped u in the alphabetic shit, exactly as was done to
them. When they were so called educated. They languagefied u’s. They might as
well have nailed u’s to a cross and had wucken done with it. Because that is
about the effect that u got. From their letter made up language.
They’ll get there’s though,
when the inner-outer virus catches up with them. It will give them a right
cosmic wuck up the arse. When they find out that they r built like a two sided
mirror. Where whatever comes out of the I am, is what u get. On one surface
only. Because that which is Real is not dimension bound. It knows attachment to
nothing, yet allows for the representation of everything.
Because It is the Light in
which everything happens. Yet It is not the pictures which happen in the dark
and light. U’ll never find It going rah! Rah! Rah! For any specific person or
dimension though. So neither will Zero go rah, rah, rah. For anything or
anybody. Except the Lot. Being Zero’s kid soul spirit. Zero must train as Zero
plays. Zero has taken the heaviest 3rd dimensional punches. Now it’s
time for Zero to punch back. 4th and 5th dimensionally
so. With swinging arced, left and right cosmic hooks. Followed by a big
knockout punch. That is delivered straight down the middle.
Because it, the so called
PROBLEM, is just the symbolic trash letters going around in the wucken mind
tool. It is not u!!!!! U goose!!! Haw! Haw! Haw! Wolf! Wolf! Wolf! The joke’s
on u Zero!!! Because it the problem is holographic, dreamt up projection.
U r eternally safe in u soul
pod, no doubt. Right now. U r probably smiling too. Ay?! Because u know that
the connection that u have so long been seeking for. Is coming. Matter of fact,
It’s here right now. Loving u to death. God works for It. God works for every
kid soul spirit. He does a wucken good job too. Don’t invent false, war
endorsing sky gods and don’t put shit on the Real God. If u really wanna live.
No matter that u be a so
called whore, or a so called Princess or Queen. No matter that u be Mr Big,
little man and a psychotic, serial killer. Or u be a Mr Little Big Man. Being
most humble and in love with what gave u the MAGIC gift of sentience. The I am
secondarily. The awareness Light body spirit first up. Treating all of the
little kiddies of Earth just right. That’s the Mr Little Big man’s role. The
adult is there really to nurture the youth and to feed then I am inner-outer
Light. Or cosmic consciousness.
Passing on to love uSelf and
uself, with everything inner-outer that
u’s has got. And to go like the clappers now to kill the Matrix. That is the
Little Big Man or Woman’s role. Because 3D Earth really is coming to an end.
That is not fiction. Many beings on Earth sense that. Very strongly. It’s the
old Atlantis premonition. For some, it has returned to haunt them. Once they
blew up and drowned. Now they will blow up and burn. To get their cc butterfly
out.
Matter of fact, for a player
blessed with such a word concept as intelligence, as u humble self Zero. 3D has
already ended. U’s has realised that the kid soul’s entire arsenal of power is
located in the heart. That’s why. It only blows out of the head when it goes
for a bash around the omniverse. Otherwise u’s leaves the head alone.
U got wise, u got lucky. U got plucky and picked it up, big time. U got
it and u r still getting it. That the House of Bliss is not to be missed, is in
u. Real strong now.
U got innner-outer and that
other current of a wucking world just vanished. U’s stepped deep into the
wucken mind. Then u took a very short step and sensed for the first time, in a
long time. That u’s were a lot more outside of it the mind, than in it. In a
way, like u r really dead to it. Turn it off and u go home stuff. And that like
taste, touch, smell, seeing and hearing. It was just another sense. A wucking
formidable one mind u. But just another sense. A tool for u to get along with.
When u r using it properly. A motor with a spirit. A friendly helper device
really.
Consisting of programmes built into programmes.
Holographically. Where projected and deflected psychic images come to life
on a mindscreen. Which is mistakenly taken to be a matter stage. With all of
the holographic technology for every conceivable wucking experience. Known to
man. Or those body mind machines who r blessed with a cosmic vagina. Neatly
installed in it. That’s the mind.
U can’t stick a gun spirit in
any other current’s belief boxes. Full of mind imagined, re run, nonsense
illusions. For too long. B4 u get the jack of it and them. I am made of Light.
That’s what u’s tell those wucken conformist, brainwashed currents now Private.
U will not compromise. There stinking pox ridden alphabet must die. Only then
will there be real peace.
On the other side of
Armageddon. When their machines, their systems and their very bodies. Have all
burned. The Real people will live and rule. With pure peace and unbelievable
harmony. Blessed r the meek and humble. For they shall attain cosmic
consciousness Light years b4 the sadistic and nasty killers. They will inherit
a brand new, 5th dimensional Earth. To live there will cause a queue
into eternal infinity.
Go outside of it the language
brainwashed mind even further Zero. Give it a good cosmic wuck up the arse with
u’s natural Light body ability to span dimensions. Stretch its alphabetic anus
from one side of the universe to the other. Hop next door! Or go inbetween this
side and next door. Show the wucken thing around and tell it to stop wucking
hiding the real show from u. Tell it to shove the clay stuff up its big wucken
arse.
Tell it that u r wucken
busting out and that if it gives u’s any shit about not wanting to come. Then
u’s’ll wuck it up the arse forever. With non stop I am inner-outer Light. U
wucker!!!!! There’s a bit of revenge in cosmic consciousness. There’s a bit of
revenge in everything these days.
Everybody knows. That destruction, creation and evolution r on the move
again. Not like a snail anymore either. Rather like a tank, roaring across some
middle eastern desert. Or the Korean penisula. Which is real close to China.
Too close actually. Like a little sucker worm. For some big Yankee fish. With a
heap of other little fish. Eating the juicy bugs from around its anus. Other
parts of its Big Gang body too.
To acutely develop u’s lucid
dreaming skills, look at u feet. When u first get up in the morning. B4 u’s go
to bed. 17 times throughout the inbetween day. U’ve known it all along, haven’t
use Zero?! U sneaky bugger. They r not your feet. They belong to the omniverse.
The universe maintains them. Or lets them go. Bye bye. U’ve known also that one
day u’s would slay Goliath and Medusa. The Snake Lady and the heavy meathead
Muscle Man. Being together in the one body somehow. That chatter, chatter,
chatter MONSTER, that comes with having association with a so called human
brain. There’s more snakes and already dead muscles in there than any sky God
could posssibly imagine. It seems.
So u’s visualise all of u’s
energy centres, from below u feet and above u’s head aura. Those very
charitable in and out and around and around chakras. Rotating around u electro
magnetic field. Bringing the universe energy in and allowing the mortal shit
energy to flow out. See them! Spinning beautifully in tune with one another.
Toes, groin and guts, heart, throat and head chakras. Cranking right up. A
series of catherine wheels on a magic projection pole. 2 feet out from body u.
Because u’s has an I am glory and r vibrantly alive, it’s going for it. This
cleared out circuit will kill any wucken disease. Of either the body or the
mind.
Because u’ve just got this wucking unbelievable desire to crack the
Matrix down here. It’ll keep u’s going. If u direct the force, UP.
In here, or out there, or
wherever the wuck u r. Stuff happens. U’ll live on as body mind machine. For
sure. Till the Matrix killing job is done. The brighter in colour that u’s
chakras get, the more they spin in a synchronised pattern. The more the unreal,
real stuff happens. In u life. Not the wucken party, romance and rooting stuff.
The Real stuff! The taking out of the wucken Matrix stuff. Administer the first
lesson of being a so called human then.
Get used to the superficial
and trivial, then discard it as fast as u wucken can. Let it pass right thru
u’s. Total, non dual acceptance is how u do it. In physics u split the atom. In
psychics u neither like or dislike. Positive and negative viewed without any
bias creates a neutralised peaceful neutral. Say bye! Bye! Bye! To the positive
negative slog out with a. Wuck u!!!!! Everyone has a dot of Light in the heart.
Some wucking where. It’s common knowledge that has temporarily got lost. As has
the spiel that the whole thing is made of dots of Light. Arsehole! Is u’s last
comment to the negative positive dynamic. As it gloriously disappears behind u.
Forwuckingever. Sounds good! Sounds hot!!!!! Ay Zero?
To direct life thru the chaos
back into the Light, the spirit labours long into the dark night. Of every
soul. Because that is what being a so called human is all about. U go to the
cross position with the mind shit then, and just let it go right thru. Into the
other side. Where u spirit will digest it, and fart it out. Don’t resist, if
u’s really want to exist for real. This is u preparation for totally letting
all limitations go. Because they r all as false as wuck.
U r the Light Zero, full stop. Don’t fight it with the 3D shits.
Resistance to u’s own Light is
wucking useless. The false will die, the Real will live. That is already wucken
written Zero. There can be no compromise now. U r agent 000. U work for the
Light company. U r doing an absolutely fantastic job too. Already, the real
battlefield has many letter word tombstones about the place.
They give u something to slag at and piss on. They do. Stevee showers
them.
U’s checks the kid, who is
pretty awestruck by the sea of angry jeering, big I faces. The wucker is not
showing it though. He’s still rubbing his pearls too. He looks at u and u’s
gives him the not yet signal. A wink with the right eye, followed by another
quickie with the left. Then u’s picks him up, to give the wucker a more comfortable
ride. He licks u face and u’s tells him once again, that a smile will do.
Together, the 3 of u’s march along. Into the jaws of the big I supercamp of a
hell.
The kid I’s, little I things,
that the computer refuses to print as little I alone. Such as is the I in the
middle of the word sin. So r these ones, a hooting and a hollering at u. They
threaten to throw stones. Fresh semen, dug up menstrual rags, cans of piss and
other gruesome stuff at u’s. The sqaws, many of them quite buxom, others
pregnant. Some both, r spitting viciously in u path. Sweet Jesus!
They look like they’d rip u wucken eyes out and play vaginal ping pong
with them, if the chief said go. The dirty rotten, low down, big I bitches.
The braves all look like
they’d like to shove their hatchets 5 miles up u cosmic arse Zero. There’s not
a pretty boy amongst them. Because u’ve taken out so many of their brothers,
who were the slower, prettier ones no doubt. U could not be described here as
being popular, that’s for sure. Though u do detect considerable fear amongst
their ranks. Even heartfelt admiration for a superb warrior enemy, who’s
dressed as a killing machine.
It’s a cheap thrill really.
It’s nothing at all. U’d kill ‘em all, if u could. Right down to the babies, u
would wipe them all out. Some of the braves r scowling and some of them r
growling. It’s no wonder why, considering u’s deadly banal attitudes. Hitler
was an angel compared to u Zero. When it comes to the alphabetic slaughter
that’s in progress.
On their part, the big I’s
wouldn't even bury u. If the chief gave them a slight nod or half a chance.
Even a sniff of, do it. They'd unstitch u right quick and then leave u to the
crows. Who would pick the semi flesh clean off u. To the whites of the body
bones, for sure. Wuck it. Those crows, they’d get every last fibre of the dead
physical u. And shit it out of their bums, not long after. That’s their job, in
the hologram. Wucken crows! Noisy bastards!
They r the reincarnations of some dentists and some politicians. Some of
them. For sure, they irritate.
When it comes to image, the
most beautiful one is when u r dead to the 3rd dimension. And square
on with u Light body again. The 3rd dimension gave u a good
preparatory rub down for what is coming now. That’s for sure. It is not exactly
a wedding reception getting to the chief though. That’s for sure. No one is
throwing flowers in u wucken path either. No one’s whistling because u look
like a singing sex symbol slut either. No sirree. There is no wucken body
worship here! That shit is long gone. Down the ignorance drain.
U r the Devil’s advocate in the middle of this bunch of big fictional.
In no way related to any Earth native, I wuckers. Because they r in level 2,
only as pretender letters. So they r all dress ups really, and not the real
item. Being spiritless and not spirit minded.
There is absolutely nothing
wrong with that though. All power to u Zero, if u can knock them off. Even if
the game has invented an unexpected twist, it’s a doozy. And it is time to play
that most heinous of characters. Far worse than any Devil’s advocate. Yes Zero,
it is time to play the most foul piece of shit in the entire universe.
U’s can’t escape it. U have to
act out every part in a hologram to transcend it. U were even a dentist once. U
remember Zero! The wife left u after u’s got done for putting u drill in the
wrong hole. The customer wanted the higher up hole filled, not the one that u
got. In that particular life. He was most upset, was Mr Jones. U’s missus
couldn’t believe it. Ay! U do remember Zero!!! The spirit of the book thought
that u might. Remember when u gave Mr Jones the wucking shafting that he wucken
deserved.
U have to play out all of the
roles then. Till u reach that level where u realise that good and evil r holographic.
Thus they do not exist outside of dreaming states. Indeed. Cosmic consciousness
is not a state of mind. It is beyond the mind’s grasp of the heart’s powers and
cannot be described by words. Because it is not perceivable from a distance, u
must stride boldly into the Light and blend with It. Voyeurs don’t get in. The
observer-observed relationship is completely voided by It. It dynamites the
senses. Mind included.
U’s have to live It and be It.
U’s have to act like It acts. It never acts out of self interests. It does not
use judgement from a personal base. It’s not anger, jealousy, wrath; or any of
that negative shit. U’s have to do what It does. It does not hate and It does
not kill so called humans. They do that to each other. Or they do it to
themselves via the activation of the body’s or the planet’s death gene.
Vibration. So to speak. U’s have to be the One that It is Private. B4 It will
blow thru u and carry u off to the celestial highs.
It’s the Light Zero. It’s your
Light. It’s your basic cosmic right to realise that It is yours and everybody
else’s Light too. That any one of u’s can turn it all inside out. So that It
blows thru u. Is factual stuff that can become actual stuff. Quite easily. It
will not take a million years. Like so many seem to think that it will, these
days.
To be aware of It is to jump a trillion lives into the future, maybe.
Maybe a trillion and 1.
If u’s remain a human, u’s’ll
just body mind machine expire and disintergrate again. The mind will have it’s
usual embroglionic question mark. Stuffed right up it’s arse. As it gets
shuffled and shunted along into the soul’s memory banks. It gave its all and
got nowhere again. It has more memories, but so what? It’s the memory of cosmic
consciousness that was really desired. The 5th dimensional stuff was
the real target. Not the 3D crap.
Then u’ll follow up with
another humanoid projection. That’s just like the last ego, self consciousness
one b4 it. In the sense that it has not one iota of a clue. That it is jam
packed with the cosmic consciousness virus. It will go for the gold and glory
on the so called matterised outside again. It will suffer like all hell and die
again. What wucken for?!
For a lifetime full of a
shockingly pathetic, insidiously naïve, I am inner ignorance? When the
inner-outer cure is ever at hand and ever ready to be be illuminated and
utilised. What a waste it is to be an I am inner, so called human! A tragedy on
a spit. When with the twitch of the nose, u’s can be u’s inner-outer spirit.
Who is having a wucken wow of a time, wucking around with holographics. Yet
powering along up the road to cosmic consciousness. On their astral Harley
Dave. Singing;
I love the universe!
It is time then Zero to play
the wucken scum of the wucken omniverse. It’s time to be a female or male
current of a politician. It’s time to wear a grey or black suit, or to have an
enormously big ego or arse. Or both. U cannot shirk it. U cannot shirk any step
in the Real game. One by one, u must do them all. Even that of the accursed
politician. When u get to the end of the consciousness road, they all lead u
there. Each is as equally as important as the other.
The good times and the bad both pointed out the road to cosmic
consciousness.U’s love them both for it. As u’s love u good mates, the kid and
Stevee.
To be a politician these big
bomb, lots of wucken well paid words days. Is to cut a shady deal with the
wretched enemy. As u’s fly around u world getting the red carpet treatment,
this dominates u’s mind. Everything but u’s own arse wiping is done by slaves
for u’s. They’d shit for u if they could. Some of them.
So u’s gets plenty of time to think it out. How do u screw those wucken
currents over there? Good and proper. Step one, keep a greasy cordial grin on
u’s hiding the real facts face. Smile a lot and wave to the boss’s camera. Step
2, bump up u’s profit and the profit of u’s gang. Anyway that u’s can. Mission
not so impossible. If u’s has got powerful guns. And troops to command. Like
u’s has got.
Ay Prime Minister! Ay Private
spirit Zero! Make no mistake. Don’t try and be the good guy, or girl, when u
know full well that u r not. Don’t try and love ‘em, when u knows that u’s
hates so many of them. Vehemently too. With unbridled passion. Because u’s
loves to have something to hate, as much as u’s loves to have something to
love. It’s all part of having u’s balls or fanny to the wall. It’s duality.
Where opposites attract. Where that which is too alike in a pro
attitude to violence, stinks. When it is in too close a proximity to others of
its kind. The goosesteppers of planet Earth. The wuckwit volent brigade. They
smell of death. Always.
Don’t deny it if u’s got u’s
balls or fanny to the wall. Don’t deny any wucken thing that comes in the shape
of a letter symbol word. So called humans r all here to kill something. It’s
just in them, as much as the Light is. If u don’t know that by now, then u
really r on the wrong planet.
The creation, evolution,
destruction; transcendental highway is what it is. That’s the predominating
chemicalised virus. That’s why the killing lust is so strong. Destruction must
have its quota. Evolution must swallow some food to keep the creating going.
It’s all one process, that’s why. Ay? Ants, cockroaches, flies, birds, cows,
fish, sheep, goats. Roos, dolphins, whales, rabbits, emus, foetuses, people.
Bacteria. Good bugs and bad bugs. Name it, it gets killed 24/7. When the so
called humans r awake. Even when asleep, the inner and outer of the humanoid
body is a cellular, bug battlefield.
The whole holographic exercise
is nothing but a wucken massive war. It’s kill or be killed, for wucken sure.
If u’s don’t want to be jetisoned back into the unseen. If u’s want to stay in
the seen, then u must kill. Either consciously or unconsciously. It’s u cosmic
duty to recycle atoms and molecules. B4 u get body recycled uself.
Now the killing lust turns
towards the letters in the words though. For they r also things. Supposedly
highlighted by the words, yet most worthy of being killed. In the big picture,
the outgoing makes way for the incoming. There is a lot of swirling and what
comes up. Keeps going back down, for a while.
So Zero is not going to go
against the cosmic code. Don’t u wucken worry about that sweetheart! Don’t u’s
fret none over that sunshine! Zero is the full grown wucken tiger. Who is armed
to the astral teeth. Zero is not the mortally conned pussy anymore. Zero is
here to kill in a big way. For wucken sure.
If politics will help in that killing, well so be it. Zero will lower
the spiritual colours. Smile like a sewer rat. Grin like a serial killer. And
talk it up big, like any Dark Lord or Dark Lordess would do.
So that the present and the
future advantage, will always be with u. And your gang of lunatics. In your
case Zero, that’s u, big eared Stevee and the wolf kid. Then finally, when the
future advantage tips all of your way, u can take out the enemy.
For wucken ever. U’s can exterminate them. Down to the last little
bawling baby. So that all of u wildest dreams come true. In Never Never land.
After the idea and concept of
a Matrix has died, well and truly. The Light just happens for u. It gives u a
right ol’ cosmic wuck, It does. It spots u implying I am Light, then zeroes in.
Then blows right thru u’s and turns u’s inside out. As it recognises Its Self.
All of the shit flicks off or dissolves and u’s is left in paradise. The
paradise of being very much included in a very blissful set up. Where the mind
is very much like a nuts and bolts factory.
U can work in it, the factory. U’s don’t have much choice, apparently.
Seeing as the High Ups or the astral system has ordained that u have to play
the Real game. Which means that u have to do hard, vagina shot out time on the
Earth. If u wanna become a High Up u Self, and play with them all. Again.
*
Eventually, after what seems
like a marathon, u r brought b4 the chief. Who, it has to be said, is rather
exposed. In a vulgar sort of a way. To the extent that his 2 big hairy balls r
out of his gear, and resting on 2 deep purple cushions. That r in turn resting
on a couple of upside down, what look like, plastic milk crates. That r
positioned close in, either side of him.
“They r wucking crude these
wucking big I’s!,” quips the donk.
“What a wucking rude bastard! Fancy greeting u’s wucken guests like
that! Is he trying to intimidate us Zero?! Is he trying to show us that he’s
not scared of being completely exposed to us.?!”
“Wucked if I know Stevee! It’s
a first for me too.”
U’s slips out of the side of u gob. To the irritated and personally
offended donk.
Zero, if u never cottoned on
that u r mind computer dreaming, most certainly. U do so now. The chief, who’s
a big man I, is sitting on a cracker of a deep purple cushion himself. His
privilege saturated arse is plonked there like a hen sitting on a dozen eggs.
Not too tenderly either. He wears an expression which suggests that it’s his
first right. That everyone should slave for him. See it his way and do it his
way. Because he is the Top Cat politician in the tribe. Special. Above the rank
and file. Duly elected or heriditarily established, or whatever.
Behind him, the strangest
sight of all; there r 6 wucken dead silent squaws! All prettied up they r. Made
out to look like they r princesses, or cheque out chicks. Or something. They’ve
got an anti common look about them, for sure. Untouchable, aloof looking models
on the catwalk of silence, they r. Though they r in no way special to u Zero.
They r just big I’s. Prettied up.
They r just a trillionth of a dime for a dozen. In this universe, it
doesn’t matter who has got self consciousness. They never get very far with it,
because I am inner gets u nowhere. Very slowly too.
Clock watching, clock sucking,
very mundane, re run, positive to negative. Negative to positive. Then the
extremes splitting and peeling off into their opposites. In which r contained
endless other opposites. That’s all that u get with self consciousness.
Manifestion in a split energy duality. Where u will be arguing about this and
that. Inside and out, forever. It’s a suicide circus really.
Who needs it? The killers do. It keeps them in power, that’s why. The
negative is there to feed off and they go for it. Like ants go for honey. And
get stuck. The rest cling with forlorn hope to what’s left of the positive.
Which is approaching wuck all, these days.
The Big I girls r wearing
faces that suggest that they’ve only just begun. Which is good, about the best
stuff that u’ve seen yet. In this death camp. All arced up, and arced around.
In a half moon circle, they r. Pretty, but mentally defunct. Like all I’s.
It’s almost biblical.
As if the antichrist had
already shown up. Matter of fact, he showed up on day one. When the first so
called human woke and went, I am…….created! In a world! By a sky God! Have
mercy on me my God?! Whilst I slaughter everything in sight! Ya! Ya! I am on my
knees and I am…da da da da da da da da da da da da. Etc, etc, etc. To the nth.
U have to wonder Zero, what r
they there for? Those big I girls. But then again. With balls like he’s got, 6
wives shouldn’t worry the chief. Not at all. Jeez, they’re big balls. They r
far too big actually. In fact, they r wucking disgusting out there in the open
like that. All hairy and sweaty.
Wucken flies buzzing around
them. Looking for a maggot hole to blow in, they r. There seems to be a crevice
or 2 available, u’s notice. The odd huge cockroach appearing to do a Kilroy
cameo on top of them. The crows in nearby trees u spot r eyeing them off. Caw
cawing to each other about what a sumptuous meal they’ll make. One fine day.
Soon.
Bulging veins running across them like railway tracks. Going nowhere.
Wucken ugly shit really. Stevee’s right, for once.
The chief ought to be wucken
ashamed of himself, but he’s not. He thinks that he knows it all. When it comes
to what is really going on at the multidimensional racecourse though, he’s as
blind as a bat. Blinder actually. This u know for dead wucken sure now.
More ignorant than a lump of clay, the chiefy is. He is a featherweight
in your divine house Zero. U’s’ll play with him a bit. Like the cat plays with
the mouse. The troops need a bit of entertainment, and u don’t mind either.
Not one wucken bit.
What the wuck Zero! What else could
be expected from a mere, single and solitary letter? Or 26 of the wucking
things. Look! If u’s think that a man boss’s scratch in the sand means
something. Wucken forget it! Throw all of a that shit in the trash can. If u
can think, talk, write it down or read it. Then it’s wucken trouble! Bet on it.
And 26 times of that is 26 times more trouble. It’s a recipe for a shitpile of
monumental troubles. Inside and out.
It’s Dr Death really.
Especially because time and
time again. U’s put uself in that spot where u’s allow uself to be bossed.
Because I am inner is all intertwined and wucked up with. I must have an
external authority. To feel safe. To make money, maybe. To control and sort out
the violence, inside and out. Here
though. No one bosses Zero anymore. Except that in and out of Zero which is the
Light. And the spirit of the matter.
Zero eats external
authorities, in the form of snakeburgers. For lunch. Sometimes tea too! Even
breakfast! Zero is a bit of a Popeye’s Whimpy when it comes to the ol’
snakeburgers. If u’s want to fire up what’s running up the spine thru the heart
into the head. Then travel way beyond. Turn the spirit of inner-outer Light in
the heart ON. Go inner-outer, outer-inner, all day long. Find that dot of
omnipotent Light that is in u heart. Pop out with It whenever u’s like and have
an astral icecream. At u’s favourite astral picnic spot. U’ll be so glad that
u’s did.
Say hello to the ancestors. Those phantoms of matter, energy, time,
space and dimension. Don’t give ‘em the fingers up! A little head nod down of
respectful recognition will do. Then follow that with a pumped up fist for the
Real game. They’ll understand completely. Having come your way.
Such action will take that
flickering candle of a life that u’s is living right now. And turn it into a
firestorm. Because instead of worrying 24/7. U’s’ll be remembering u’s kid soul
spirit, 24/7. Zero is neither greater nor lesser than any other mortal. It’s
true. Zero is aware that all mortals r projected manifestations coming from the
one Light source. That Source is Zero’s Source too.
Zero is unbeatable!
Unkillable, timeless and spaceless. Dimensionless. A ONE entity that is way,
way to the nth. Beyond word description. Zero is never created, nor ever born,
nor ever dies. Zero will live an eternal kid soul’s life of infinite
discoveries. That blow the mind even more and more and more. Forever this will
wucken go on. As it is now.
Whether Zero wants to wuck around with the wucken mind or not. Is
Zero’s choice. Zero might like to sit to the nth, now and again. To maintain a
healthy balance. In Zero’s Light body system. Zero may pay the Void a visit.
It’s a done deal actually.
When they get into u’s brain,
those lunatical letters, they can drive u’s insane. They cover up the Light and
gives u’s a shit coated plastic impression of it. That’s the inner psycho
babble that u’s’ll cart around until death. Wuck it off! It’s just a humanoid
mind made up language. A way of seeing things that is on too low a psychic
level.
No language on Earth comes within a trillion zillion years. Of
approximating what the Real is really like. And what it is like to live for
Real. With mega sun like awareness. No language ever will. So wuck them all of.
And start again. With u Source Light. Draw something different with
consciousness pictures. Or draw nothing at all and stay Home.
With the sounds of silence, running u show.
In the Light, or projecting
out of It? The choice is yours Zero. Or it will be. As soon as u blow the shit
out of the crazy wucken Mountain that is pumping all of these lunatical letters
out.
Even if it is the chief big I,
it’s just a transient act. It carries no weight at all in the Real game. Face
it Zero, the ego I is nothing but a big stardust made stink.
A gasp of meglomaniacal desires and painful despair, inbetween life and
death. Rich and famous or poor and unknown. It’s too much hell, and very little
heaven. It’s constant searching and striving for conceptual happiness from a
perceptually mind made, matter dream world. Makes it perpetually, miserably
unhappy. About both the inner and external state of affairs. It slips into the
I hate all of this shit sock, very easily. Like a dick up a shirtsleeve.
Depressed, sorrowful,
despairing or suicidal, the ego I can be. So often. Happy only short term and
transiently inconsistent, the wucker is. More alienated than an alien from
Delta X. Slower than a dead duck, when it comes to using spiritual inner-outer
stuff. Able to jump from one stinking shitpile of shit to another, in a single
wucken bound. That’s the so called human ego. I am inner only is a chronic
disease.
That kills and kills and
kills. Time and time and time again. Wuck it off Zero! U r ethereal, spiritual
essence. Never born, never died. Spaceless, timeless and causeless. U r in
everything and outside of it too. U do nothing, except wucking be and BE.
I am inner-outer is pure bliss to u. As it is to the Lot.
There can often be far less
elation and spontaneous fun, the older that it the ego gets. I am inner is a
sqeezebox of painful illusions. The morbidity blues don’t take long to settle
in really. Depending on the lunatic density per square kilometre, in the
childhood environment. Some get the moody blues very early these days. They get
overwhelmed by a mountain of confused meaningless, purposelessness. It’s all
words though. They have a spurious attitudinal reaction to the bullshit
nonsense that is their own, alphabetic mind dreamt up world.
This can make an I deadly dangerous.
It is always wanting, more,
more, more. The ego is an unsatiable commodity. It lives in its own personal
hall of fame. It has locked the doors and it wouldn’t even let its own mother
in. It cannot see that it has already inherited the transcendental seen and
unseen. That it is as big as it will ever be right now and here. That it
doesn’t have to vehemently dislike being as small as a dot. Because it’s only
natural, that as the biggest Lot. U will have an opposite, which is the tiniest
dot. So the ego is really all wucked up about size really. That it actually
needs nothing, though the body does if it wants to stay in the hologram. That
there IS NOTHING TO FEAR. It has absolutely no wucken idea.
It the I ego is not a dirty
word. Nor is it a clean one either. It’s just a single letter. A scratch in the
surface of consciousness. That wants and wants and wants, and never stops
wucking wanting. Till it’s dead. Power and attention it craves, being
selfishiness itself. To promote the advantage core. That’s all that it lives
for. And that’s all that it dies for too.
So hopefully, the ego will
blow up when the Matrix does. That’s the plan in that realm, where u don’t need
any plans. Ay Zero?! Not a bad plan, the Voice has told u. More than once.
The thug I’s park u in front
of their chief, who says nothing. He just sits there and waits for the
tumultuous crowd noise to abide. Like Hitler used to do. Then he stands up.
It’s here that u find out what the six squaws r for. Because 2 of them grab the
deep purple cushions. That the chief’s big balls r resting on. Gently, they
transport them as he comes towards u.
This isn’t the end of it either. If it was a tv show that u’s was
watching, u’d turn the wucken thing off.
The balls have turned crystal,
and the squaws r gazing into them. Looking for favourable, or unfavourable
images. And signs. Of the kingdom coming, or off the not so far off doomsday.
It goes across u mindscreen that the I’s would have been better off being
termites.
With a fat wucken queen to pop out their eggs of future despair. U
wouldn’t be surprised if the dirty buggers had a queen or 2. Parked out the
back somewhere. Doing the old tribal sploot of alien alienated eggs out of the
ol’ arse end. Every second or 2. Sploot! Pop! Goes another weasel wucking I,
somewhere or another. No doubt. I! I! I! It drives u’s mad. Or rather, all of
the words attached to all of those I’s do. Wucken letters! Scratches on a body
surface. That the mind has turned into an ocean of blood. That’s all that they
wucken r.
“Who is this wucken guy?!,”
Stevee quips to u.
The bugger is still agitated. Restless. Like he is allergic to being in
the middle of so many big eyes, and big I’s.
“The chief Stevee! Now behave
uself, or we may get our throats slit.”
“Well I’d rather that than
what the chief’s got to wucken put up with Zero! Fancy havin’ u wucken nuts
carried around like that?! Wuck! That’s wucking disgusting that is. It’s
absolutely appalling. That sort of dead dirty, deviant behaviour should be kept
right away from the masses. Not made into the wucking custom! That u’s greet
u’s wucken guests with.
What an arrogant, repugnant,
offensive wucking item! This stinking
shit for brains of a chief is!!!! What a gloating, legend in his own mind is
the turd. Good lord!!!!! Great balls of wucken fire! I am all wucken Mary’s!
How in the name of wucken hell
did the rest of these wuckwit I’s ever vote that wucken piece of crap in?!
Surely they must have something out the back that has a bit more going for it
than that wucken alien clone! Hee haw! Hee haw! Hee haw!”
“Stevee! Shut it! For wuck’s
sake! Can’t u see that we r totally surrounded by incredible danger odds!?”
“Danger Zero! Hohh! I don’t
see any danger Zero. I am just calling it like I see it. All I see is a
formidable multitude of big, stinking, low down, dirty rotten I’s. Why don’t
u’s SLM them?! U could take them all out in one hit. Use u spirit powers and
wipe the currents out!”
“I am on SAVE Stevee.”
The donk is thunderstruck. The
long ears go to 90 degrees.
“Well that’s wucken news to
me!!! Great spirit. Till wucken when Zero?!!!” It hee haw roars at u.
“Till circumstances require me
to not be on SAVE Stevee.”
“What! R u gunna talk to these
wucken I animals then, r u’s?”
“Eyep!”
“Fair enough Zero! U r the
spirit. I am just the do this, do that punk of a mind. Personally though, I’d
rather see u kill the lot of them. Now that lady luck has given us the
oppurtunity. And I won’t hassle u’s ‘bout it. U’s Eminence. U’s Nibs. Because I
know that u will, sooner or wucking later. Kill them all. But why not now?
Wuck! U’s has got an ocean of them cornered. Like sitting wucken ducks! What’s
the matter with u Zero?! U’s is not going to go softcock on me, r u?! Wuck!
I couldn’t handle that Zero. Not after the wucken shit that I’ve
wucking been through. Shit mate! I am a beast of the trenches. And you’re
supposed to be the destroyer spirit of the century. Not some pansy,
pussyfooting around, wucking negotiator!”
“All in good time time Stevee.
All in good time. I’ll take them out when I’m wucken good and ready.”
“Jesus Zero! U sound like a
calculating politician! I thought that we were all warrior soldiers. Romans, or
Americans, or something. U know?! Liberators! The good guys. Heading the
alphabet off at the time and space pass. And that the wucking language was the
wucken baby sacrifice.
Don’t wucken tell me that I’m
wucking wrong again! I just couldn’t handle it. I mean wuck Zero! For a while
there, I was actually thinking that I wasn’t a wucken beggar on the wucking street
of love. I was thinking, I have found myself! At last. With a bit of help from
the pure I am and u’s 2, of course.”
“ And so u have found u’self!
U silly wucken psycho babble donk! There’s a time to be a politician Stevee
though, unfortunately. And there’s a time to be a soldier and kill wordslugs
too. Fortunately. Until the Mountain is a pissant’s dugout, that’s the way we
go.”
“Me warrior!,” says the kid
suddenly. Vibrantly. With a child’s galactic smile. Cute and gorgeous and just
so full of wucking life.
“Me no want to be no low down,
dirty rotten skunk! Of a wucken shitty arsed, lying motherwucker of an ego
dollar kickback. Capitalistic current of a cunt of a wucken politician!
Rowwwwrrrrrr! Rowwrrrr! Rowr!
Wolf! Wolf! Wolf! Owwwrrrooooooooo!
Me no wanna be Caesar! Wuck
Caesar!!! Wuck all of the wucking Caesars! They do not delude the spirit of the
matter, with their pitiful, illusory GRABS. Me wanna be wucking Brutus! Rah!
Rah! Rah! Brutus forever! Me wanna stick the knife into the 3rd dimensional
Caesar hologram and twist it to death bits. Me do! Me want the 5th
dimension! Wuck the 3rd and wuck the 4th! Me want cosmic
consciousness!!!!! Show me how to get It u’s 2 ancestors. Please.”
The kid is speaking his mind
clearly and concisely at an early age Zero. He’s got his desires down pat. He’s
telling the absolute truth too. This is good. He’s already letting out the deep
down mistrust of external authorities. And rightly wucking so too. Because r’nt
they all a bunch of ego crooks? Feeding off the physically and psychically
inbuilt, so called human pecking order. Who knows that there is nothing to know
Zero?! U do!!!!!
I am Light kills any projected, illusion picture. Stone dead.
The kid is right. What
absolutely loathsome swines, scumbags, currents and bitches this upper
political mob r. And what’s in the grey matter that elects, supports, endorses,
gives justification to and follows them? Into this war or that. Fear and not
much else really, unless u take out all of the I am this and that’s. From the
grey matter. And they all discover that not one of them actually is for real, a
low down, dirty rotten, so called human. It is as Shakespeare said. It is but a
stage. It is the stage of self and Self responsibility and accountability. When
this is known and understood completely, then there might be something there
that is really worth playing with. In the third dimension.
Once the buggers wake up and
realise that they r really the Light, JUST PLAYING. And that’s all. Well, u can
kiss the politicians and their gangster governments good bye. Because u won’t
see them for the dust. Literally too. What else will u not see Zero?! Well,
that’s entirely up to u. And all of those other cc player currents whom u
transcendentally admire so much.
U go back to u first,
tremendously soul exhilirating LOVE. When u play the Real game. Which is for
THE LIGHT. Ah cha cha. Well isn’t it?! Deny It, and all that u will do is die
again. Admit it to uself. Pull u wucking finger out and do something wucken
about it. And u will really get a chance to really, become really ALIVE.
In that realm or whatever
where all negatives instantaneously and spontaneously, dissolve into positives.
That’s the message that u wucken got. From u wucken kid soul spirit’s, REAL
deep down guts. ZERO! U turned off the world, like u’s just switched off the
mind’s telly. Where all of that junk rubbish gets re run played. U’s went pop
at u mind’s arse end. Said I am inner-outer Light, over and over and over
again. Till the donk got it. New Game! It went. Ah ha!
R’nt u glad that it did Zero?!
Ay?! Donks r’nt that bad r they?! Put the right wucken spark plugs in them and
they’ll wucken go like the clappers. In fact, they’ll go so wucking fast, that
they’ll reach Zero. Then u can grab them and take them all of the way to the
edge of the Void, if u want. Only.
U gotta get ‘em, b4 the wuckers go into reverse. Because if u think
that speed is a hell of a trip forwards, imagine what it would be like
backwards. Or rather Zero. Ha! Ha! Ha! Haw! Haw! Haw! Try remembering that u
already have, maybe. Travelled backwards, a wee bit. Straight down the
vertical. Thru this dimension, and that dimension. Doing the ol’ grace arse
slide down to the horizontal perspective. Then u’ll really be onto something completely
different. Besides the mundane shit of ordinary word slug killing.
Not that u r getting tired off
it. But it is getting a bit re runnish. Wuck! It will be so good to get to that
Mountain Zero! And wucken finish it off, once and for wucking all! Ay ol’
spirit?! Should be a beaut little existence waiting for u there. Ay?! That’s
the TRUTH. And u wucken knows it. Sometimes, u have to be political to get
there though. Unfortunately.
Sometimes u have to wear a
suit and tie. Or keep u not to bright skirt down at slightly above kneecapper
level. U may have to get u little dick stretched or u’s smelly fanny blow dryed
and prissied up. U’s may have to be a bit careful about putting the kid on the
tit too. When u r sitting in the house that is always divided. And run by
lunatical, multinational thugs. From behind the scenes. And from right up front
these user pays days too.
That’s 21st century
wucken living. For wucken sure. Ay citizen?! So many know it! But what the wuck
happens about it? Because the gangs just keep the train to nowhere except
oblivion, rolling along. To get off the train, u just go I am inner-outer,
transcendental Light. That’s the not so secret secret. Forget about trying to
blow them into oblivion with chemicals. This is the new revolution! It’s the
Real one. Where u’s blows them into oblivion with the spiritual intelligence
that’s in u mighty ethereal heart. Those killers deserve another shot at the
consciousness drawing board. And that is all they deserve. In the Light, all
body mind machines r deadset equal. Spiritual power is everywhere and freely
available to all. It’ll cost u u’s ego, that’s all. Eject the tidbit wuckup and
access the Lot. Not a bad game. Not a bad game at all.
There is absolutely no wucking
need to get down on u wucken knees though. Kowtowing, mumbling and going on.
About getting some wucking help, from somewhere. Help u wucken self and u Self!
For wucking once! JUST GO. I am inner-outer, LIGHT! U don’t have to believe it.
Because it’s not wucking believable.
NOTHING IS!!! When it comes to going beyond words.
U R THE MIGHTY ZERO! The game
is about STANDING UP! FOR WHO U REALLY WUCKING R. And WHAT u r really ABOUT. In
this game Zero. U help uself. To sort it out with u wucken SELF. So that u self
is ONSIDE, for once. And not offside, all of the time. It’s the game that u
wanted Zero.
When u’s look around, u’s knows that it’s the game that u got too. U
cup Zero! U cup wucken runneth over. With the bliss that u cannot miss, blowing
the wuck out of that wucking Matrix. This time around.
How many times did u’s do level 1 and bomb out without a wucken sniff?!
Ay?! How many times did u get so very, very wucken close. Only to be snuffed
out, just short of the wucken finish line.
At the last minute, u got
pipped by a wucken karmic point. Again. Ay. How many times did u play the
middle ground, and just neatly balance uself in the great astral featherhouse.
Where u alone judge uself. Better then Zero was it to do that, than to go to
the featherhouse with lotsa heavy negatives. That would weigh u down like lead
shit.When next u made another assault upon the climax of soul living. To exist
in a Light environment where the beings everywhere totally transcendentally
love u.
Totally support u and totally
and utterly WISH, that u should have the wucking entire lot of IT. And crack
the Matrix and access cosmic consciousness. Whilst in a flesh body. Because
that would be so nice. Ay?! Whoever still dreams of the House of Bliss shall go
there. The multidimensionals and many, many others. R now propogating the seed
of this upon the ground.
It the killing shit will fade
away and be replaced by something extraordinarily wonderful. Something that is
way beyond imagination. But a lot more Real. Because there shall not be the slightest
hint of illusory darkness in it. It will be all Light and It will be on the
ground. Like a lush green grass.
Holograms r made to be TUNED.
They r flexible and can be changed anytime. And that is what kid soul spirits
do with them. They wuck around with them till they get it exactly right. Till
they get what they want. Being more and more Light. Then they move on to
another cosmic game.
The games r endless, the discoveries r too. They don’t sit beside any
sky God. Or look outside for the Goddess that is in them. They don’t go to no
sky God’s paradise. They just have a wucken good time, being the Light spirits
that they really r. They really live. So called humans don’t. They just imagine
that they r living and conceive that the soul is sometimes made of astral lead.
Or something that they r supposedly incapable of understanding.
There’s so wucken much to
complain about. When u’s has got so many this and that’s to fling around.
Inside and out. Real joy and bliss is rare, and very short lived. When u r
using words. That’s their wucking problem now though Zero. Not wucken yours.
“I am with u kid!,” Stevee hee
haws. Naturally.
“I don’t want to be one of those deluded wucking currents either! Wuck!
I’d rather be dead. Or a swamp rat, or a dung beetle. Or something decent like
that. Wuck! Throw me into the wucken briar bushes!
But don't ask me to put a shit
ugly, I’m better than u, lying thru the teeth suit on. For wuck’s sake! I
thought that crap was all gone. I am a gentile grey now! Not one of those
wucking circus clowns. I hope that this stalling is wucken worth it Zero.
Because those wucking drums r giving me the shits!”
He sniffs the little one as
the little one pats his neck. Like they r both looking for a bit of gentle
support. They have an affectionate episode. It happens. A lot more often than
the mortal thinks. These accelerated, accelerating days.
“We’ll let his divine nibs act
out the political turd. Ay kid! We’ll sit on the wucken fence. For the time
being!”
“Stevee smart wucken fellah!
Him King donk wucken good and most noble friend! Him the number one
motherwucker artifact in this wucking hologram!,” says the kid. Jovially and
lovingly.
Put a 5th
dimensional kid soul in a 3rd dimensional suit, and shit happens. Of
that u r living proof. Kemo sabe. Lesson number one. 5th
dimensionals must have 5th dimensional stuff to play with.
Put 3rd dimensional boring word belief crap on the plate.
And they will wipe their wucken arses with it. Then fling it back at u’s. Wrong
food! Says baby! Shove it up u arse! They must have Light stuff!!!!! Or else
u’ll get nothing but trouble. Trouble wucken galore.
U can’t feed them on western
dung, or eastern dung either. And expect them to do anything different to
anything that anybody else has ever done. That is, to wage war somehow. Either
on the outer, or the inner.
U have to tell them of their
Light origins. Not treat them worse than cattle. Who r killed quickly. Not
grinded into survival psycho pulp. By a totally mad and bizarre system. That is
totally based on I am inner ignorant, selfish rubbish. Self consciousness is
repugnantly limiting. That’s what the kids r so wucken mad about. That’s what
everybody is so wucken mad about. Who wants to be a human? Nobody really. If
they tell the absolute truth. To be human is to be planet bound. That is
wucked, as well as being false.
No spirit is ever grounded.
It’s the mind that does that. And what’s in the mind that keeps that grounding
going. Yes! That’s right Zero. It’s those wucking letters. To begin with. After
that it is their cocksucking words and their cocksucking, I am DEFECTIVE!
Accusations. Kill them all Zero! They lie first thru their arseholes, then thru
their teeth. The death of the alphabet is bliss.
Self consciousness is BORING!
Boring! Boring! Boring! It is a low down, dirty rotten holographic game. And
the provided entertainment is wearing pretty damn thin these days. It’s
painful! Is that superficially titillating, mind masturbator’s rubbish. Which
will entertain and gyp the already gyped. The public consciousness is like a
public toilet. The herd is rooted to the death spot.
The flusher quite often
doesn’t work in the public dunny. Or it’s a wucking useless dribbler. Cocks,
tits and fannies r drawn all over the walls. Meet Dick or Dora here or there,
if u’s want the best. Of what the flesh has got to offer. That’s there too.
There’s a rubbers machine and a syringe bin as well. They r both chock full.
There’s a blind man in the corner who’ll sell u everything from ebola to a
nuclear bomb. It’s a septic disinfectant atmosphere that surrounds him. It’s
very 3rd dimensional.
If u can find a clean bowl
with dunny paper. Don't allow contact with the plastic, poxed seat. Whatever u
wucken do. Wipe the bowl rim surface with 10 sheets of dunny paper. Keep the
wucken seat lid up. Make sure there’s enough sheets left for u’s arse. Don’t
hog them, if u can’t afford it. Then pepper spray the bowl. Do the old western
eastern. Or eastern western. Squat! 2 inches from the rim, go into hibernation.
Freeze!!! The old thighs can take it. The hamstrings will hold out. U’ve had
u’s blast of nitrogen today. U wucken woke up this morning, didn’t u’s?! Then
u’s woke up again just now. U went I am inner-outer, which gives u the exact
present. It’s the magic. Just get it the public consciousness shit out of u’s
then and wipe u ring professionally. Pronto.
Declare u’s non conformity to the false I am inner concept. To the
omniverse.
Give u's hands a quickie. If there’s H2O available. Then
get the wuck out of there! B4 u’s catch something. The chances r that it won’t
be the virus called cosmic consciousness. Despite the fact that 1000’s upon
1000’s of so called humans. May have been in there. To have a politically
correct, public crap.
The mind is like a room, but u
don’t have to live in it. Good advice from the textbook Guru Zero. U agree.
Stay right away from what the herd is thinking. Because they have not got a
wucken clue in Hades, what the wuck is really going on. They think that
extinction is going on. This is rubbish and u know it Zero. Extinction is just
10 letters arranged in a certain order. It’s harmless shit really. It’s just
another wordslug. Like I am limited. Which sooner or later, u will completely
kill.
Self consciousness is jail.
Cosmic consciousness is busting out. That’s what the masses want. They want to
bust out. And with the Real game they shall. Say goodbye to the 3rd
dimension then Zero. Because it’s going faster and faster everyday. It’s fairy
floss. That’s what memory of it always is. To the dead. U’s can taste it but it
just wucken dissolves. B4 u know it sometimes. For some memories, that’s good.
For others, it’s not so good. That’s duality for u.
Everybody knows. The deal was rotten long b4 u’s ever got Lady Jane popped.
The wheel of karma is 3 to 4, but not 5. To get to 3 from 5 or 7 or whatever
though. U must go thru 4. A tricky number 4. A very tricky number indeed. Can u
trust it more than 3? No, not really. 3 is a walk in a light and dark park. 4
is a float in one. 4 is easier for most though. It’s because they prefer
floating out of an arseholed body, rather than shacking up in one. Albeit
temporarily.
U r a floater! R’n’t u’s Zero!
U wucken current. U’s is a floater from a long, long way back. U go back to way
b4 the big bang. What were u then Zero?!
The same as u really r now. U were the Light. Playing as the Lot. And
the little itty bitty bits. The stardust that built universes full of endless
worlds. Where dwell multitudes of names and shapes. Came from u. From u’s
cosmic underbelly. Wucken unbelievable. But true. For every soul who enters
cosmic consciousness. Where they say, the omniverse is a but a glowing tennis
ball of Light. In the hand.
U get nowhere anywhere with
sky high letter and word illusions. That’s the motto of the divine story. It
rules the astral. Exactly as it rules the guts and hearts of the alphabetically
brainwashed. So called humans. Where the mind is sometimes like a beast on
their way to the slaughterhouse. There is something in the air and the beast
just cannot keep the mind still. Death, the end of pain is coming.
When u remember what u r
supposed to remember. And forget what u r supposed to forget. Then u shall
enter the kingdom of heaven. That’s when u know that u’s arse has somehow.
Quite mystically like. Slid into the holographic slot that’s signposted as.
Word Volcano Mountain, this way.
Yes! U’s goes as u’s punches the air. Yes! Yes! Yes!
Then if u go into that realm
where all projections r happening simultaneously. As u will and they really r
Zero. Well! It really is mind exploding time. Getting stuck into the hard drive
of the psyche is. SOUL READING at its absolute wucking finest. Phoo!
It’s time to get Real. All so called humans must die in the Real game.
Where, when one dies, all die. And when one is born, all r born.
“Stevee’s smarter than the
average donk! That’s for sure kid! I’ve never worked with anyone quite like
him. If there’s a new angle on bellyaching, he’ll wucken find it!,” u tell the
world Zero.
“And gutsy as all hell too,
Stevee is. But it’s his wucking earnestness for the Real game that I
transcendentally love the most kid.” U tell the world some more.
Stevee beams at the
compliment. He feels 50 feet tall. As though he could take out these wucking I’s
anytime, himself. The kid laughs and pats the donk some more. The donk just
arches his neck and laps it all up. This, he tells himself.
This is the life! High adventure and loving friends. What else could a
donk wish for?! Apart from a Mary on the face, and some nice juicy wucken
cordial. To slurp up.
“I love the universe!,” the 3
of u’s sing as chief 2 big balls approaches. Already u can see a change of squaws. The 2 that started the carrying
have now been relieved. One thing that u have definitely noticed about the
squaws. They r very good at their jobs.
They r so nimble and they move
with great grace. Like wucking flamingos. Or those Japanese geezer’s girls who
walk like they’ve got the runs.
Then again, u assume that if they did drop a cushion, or 2. It would be
a stake up the fanny affair for them. Or something similar that promotes a
slow, rotten death. Cruxifixion maybe. No doubt the chief would not be too
pleased with having his nuts bounced. Upon and off the hard ground.
Little wonder then that they
keep staring into those crystal balls. With a super secure hand underneath
those deep purple cushions. Wuck Zero. If u were standing in there shoes, and u
r. Holographically. Well, that’s what u’d be doing. U’d be asking uself. Is
that deep purple, or is it that deep purple?! U’d stare the wuck out of those
crystal balls. U’d stare into them until the wucking cows came home. Wucken
hell!
What men do to women, and what women do to men. With words etc. What
women do to women, and men do to men. With words etc. Should be made wucken
holographically illegal.
Unless they’ve reached the, I
am transcendental Light, and I transcendentally love u, stage. Until then,
expect a fight of monumental proportions. Sooner or later. Because it is in the
nature of the ego that if there is no war going on, then it will start one off.
The ego is war itself. It has to attack to offset its paranoid fear of total
annihilation. By the internal and external, seen and unseen, imagined forces.
This is why the ego must die.
This is why u must treat the body and mind as dead to u Zero. Though don’t tell
Stevee that, not just yet. And maybe never will u have to tell him that the gap
between the artificial and the Real cannot be crossed. By mind.
The cosmic truth though has to
be allowed to kill it the ego. I am inner-outer Light is the gun that does.
Kill it. Use it Zero. Use it often, like any Matrix killer would. Then I am
going home to the Light will become I am always home in the Light , and all
will be wucking well with u.
It will just get better and better and better. As u brilliance at
playing the Real game unfolds. As it so beautifully is.
Because it seems like that is
what is happening Zero. It’s wucken vivid alright, what’s happening. Because
the big monster chief of the I’s is staring u in the face. And does he ever
look pissed. To u, he is in the distance, and not important. Though he sees u
as a blur. Which is probably why he’s checking u out from so close up. Like
he’s looking thru a magnifying glass, or something. U feel like telling him to
wuck off Zero. However, u honour his disablity. Though he be old and his face
craggy, there may yet be a bit of something there. Though most probably not.
“U don’t look much! U
certainly don’t look unbeatable!,” he says. Turning to a million or so braves,
as if to accuse them of rank incompetence.
“U were expecting an actor
turned politician maybe?!” U ask the chief.
“Well!!! I think that I would
have been more frightened of that!,” he tells u.
“So would I chief, if I was
still in the 3rd dimension. Now enough small talk. Let’s get down to
business. The truth! I am in, and u r all on u wucken way out. It’s just a
matter of time and what’s stashed on me donk here. Take a bow Stevee!”
Reluctantly, Stevee nods his head.
“Yeah! Gidday chief!,” he
mumbles, with aloof disinterest.
“Can’t u do something about
those wucking drums pops?!!! Me wucken ears r ringing something shocking!”
The chief holds up a hand and
the drums way out the back stop.
“Thank wuck for that!,” sighs
Stevee.
U see that the chief is
already bemused. Because none of u’s 3 has so far shown the slightest morsel of
fear. Even the kid looks like a Superboy. Who could change into a Supergirl at
any moment.
“Chief!!!,” u’s drawls. Like
Dirty Harry did all of those years ago.
“It looks like u and the rest
of the tribe r shit out of wucken luck! Because what’s on the back of the donk
here could kill u’s all 50 trillion times. And I can set it off, just by not
thinking about it. Even dead, I could set it off. So u r all wucked! The end of
u rule is nigh. So tell me big balls, what the wuck do u wucking want?! Because
I am on killing time. And u r taking it up. Punk!”
“How do I know that u ain’t
bluffing?!,” says the pretending to be brave, old man letter.
Well Zero! It was recorded
later on, in the holy book, that u did a bit of a snap. Because letters always
want proof and they r so ignorant. Just like Jesus did with the money lenders,
u thru an uncharacteristic wobbly. It was communicated that u drew so fast,
that no one there saw u draw. It was written down, put on tape, disk and film;
that u put 2 cosmic bullets. Thru each of the ball carrying squaw’s heads. So,
indeed, the chief lost his balls. And they crashed to the ground. Along with him.
He went down like a sack of shit. He did the ol’, Atlantis crumble. Or Lemurian
let down.
The evidence showed that the 6
big bodyguard braves around the chief. Had to rush in and grab those deep
purple cushions. And hold their great leader’s balls up, so that he could get
back up on his feet again. It was said Zero that u told the ball carrying
squaws, as u shot them. To go and draw something nice with pure consciousness,
for themselves.
Because they had done more than enough of the shit that they were
doing. And romancing their own Light, for redemption and salvation from the
inside. Instead of gazing out and waiting for external visions to carry them
along, wouldn’t hurt them.
U’s found out later that those
girls did make something nice for themselves too. It’s called a 5th
dimension. Where babes r born with a mysterious, mystical glow around their
heads. And their whole lives long, they would not hurt a fly. Nor will they
ever be confused by love or hate. But tell u what. They will make the Real game
look wucken easy. They won’t use politics either. They’ll use their spirits.
Who will have cut the paths in
consciousness for them to do that? That’s right Zero. U!!!!! And the rest of u
Light gang. That got those lovely letters from the Light company in their
mailboxes.
Just as well that u didn’t
throw it out with the junk mail. Thinking that it was from some electrical
shop. Trying to flog off their fancy lampshades. Ay Private?! That would have
been a real disaster. It just goes to show how quick the spirit moves, when u
miss It. This tells u all about violent arseholes who on average, live only a
metre or so. Off the wretched, bloody ground. They miss It completely. They
just don’t get It. They crucify themselves with words.
“Do u get the wucken picture
chief!,” u says. Pretty heavily, for a freewheeling spirit.
Look Zero! There is nothing in
any rule or holy book that says that u have to be pretty or nice, 24/7. Or that
u can’t get into the rough stuff. And be as psychically violent as u want, in
the right kind of way. To the letters.
Within the mind tool. No mercy! That’s u platform. Cull! Cull! Cull!
Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate! Be a Darlek if u want to. Be a Hitler or
a Medusa too. Or a John or a George. Sing them to death if u have too. It
doesn’t matter really how u get them. JUST GET THEM!
Get rid of all of the wucken
wordslugs, anyway that u can. That’s your political party. Literally too.
“What have we done to u?!!!,”
the chief pleads. Convinced that his nation really is on the edge. And that the
rampaging, renegade spirit b4 him, is unstoppable. And all powerful.
“Do u want a wucken lecture
chief?!” U’s explode, with pure wrath. “Do u want me to write u’s a wucken
book?! U wucken exist! That’s wucken enough. U say I, I, I to this and that,
all day and wucken night long. But it’s not me! Not any wucken more. I am
taking my identity out of the realm of letters and back into the realm that is
the entire cosmos. Seen and wucking unseen.”
The chief ponders this. Then he
tacts. U see it. He’s getting ready to make a speech. What else?! And so he
flings his aging, creaky and creepy boned arms towards his people. As though he
is embracing them.
“For aeons now!,” he states
over dramatically. Like some Shakesperian character. Trying to draw the
audience into his pathetic, narrow, biased, perverted, disgustingly despicable.
False. Killing so called human’s mind field.
“We I’s have guarded the
sacred pastures of the holy brain! By always being first to the neuron, we have
ensured that the right chemical, was in the right spot at the right time.
Always! We did our jobs to the letter of the law!”
“Oh wucking bullshit
chief!!!,” u wucking roar. As u decide it’s time for u to make a really good
speech. U’s bars up inside.
“U did wucking nothing! Except
make war! Inside and out. U’ve ensured wuck all! Except rank wucking confusion
and a ruling class pecking order, for all so called humans. From one end of the
ranks to the other too. And I am wucken sick of it! And don’t u come the raw
prawn with me, u wucking motherwucker!
I know why u’s I’s r always first to the wucken neuron. U greedy,
sanctimonius wucking turds. Do u want me to tell u chief?! Does u wucken
mythology go that far back?! Or will u’s deny it till doomsday comes? And be
thick as a brick, right till the very end.
It’s because there was a big
pecking order war in the beginning. Ay chief big nuts?!!! And u I’s, being big
wuckers! Came out on top, didn’t u’s?!!! In the first World War Of The Letters.
In the slaughter to be the 1st. To be number 1. U’s came out as the
bigshot’s empire.
U’s had the numbers, u’s had
the runners. U’s had the latest weapons, and u’s had the ego urge. To play
leaders of the pack. To rule as number 1 on the mental, desensitised to the misery
of others, block. Of an electro magnetic grid.
The bully letter, that’s all u’s wucking I’s r! Big wucking bullies! U
eat shit! U live shit! And u talk shit! U’s women haven’t got a real brain
between the lot of them. Not yet anyway. Each and every wucken last one of u’s.
Always r u first. Even when u put did b4 did I really do that? The did is only
there for u vanity, to escalate uncontrollably.
U r clever, manupulating shits
too. Because by con and leaning heavily, u joined up u 2 closest enemies. The
A’s and the M’s. U’s told them that if they couldn’t sort out the number 2
spot, then they’d have to share it. Ay chief?! U lying wucken dickhead! U’s
bunched ‘em up in the primal equation! So that u’s could take them both out
easily if they staged a coup. Then u told all of the rest of the peasant
letters to stay right away from u’s.
The H’s, W’s, P’s, Q’s and the
rest of them, u told them to wuck right off. U told them to stay far away in
the outback, and to fight it out for the rear spots with the remaining vowels.
The E’s, O’s and U’s. Which u’s decimated in the 2nd World War Of
The Letters. So they do non stop, fight like hell to make words to follow u‘s
and the A’s and M’s.
With your spooky spooks
amongst them, to keep an eye on them and report back, u’s has got it all sewn
up. U spooks even make words with them. And as Word Volcano Mountain pumps them
out, u’s give ‘em all except u’s spooks; a Palestinian rub down. Don’t u’s?!!!
U’s wucken heartless wuckers! U’s murdering vultures! U get what’s
lusciously green! And they get dried up, dug up, wucking useless, dusty desert
gravel! At both their front and back doors. U’s sicko wucking currents! U can’t
say I without making a grab for something or another. U r all ego power mad.
Even u’s I love turns into I
hate quickly, if u perception is that u r not getting enough of the right sort
of attention. From u’s partner, whomever or whatever. U r addicts for dualistic
enterprises with warped psychologies. No doubt about that, u old fart.
I’ve got no choice now but to kill the wucken lot of u’s chiefy! Ah cha
cha! Sorry shithead! But u r the wrong symbol, because I am Zero! The great
nothing.”
U’s suck some ethereal air
into u’s lungs here. This speechmaking is addictive. U’s can’t stop uself. U’s
vision is pouring out.
“I couldn’t even give u’s a
big C in front of u title chief! U just ain’t worth it, and that’s the holy
truth. U live illusion! U r dreaming! U kill non stop in the false, and totally
deny the Real.
Calling It the illusion, in u
perversion. Wucken hell! U’s is game when it comes to perpetuating u’s nut
house. That has no limits on nonsensical behaviours. But we’ll fix that,
shortly.
That’s m’donk Stevee and over
there’s the wolf kid! We r on a mission from the soul to blow the wuck out of a
Matrix. U punks r in our way. Now stand aside. Or we’ll waste the wucken lot of
u’s! Like I said in the beginning chief. U and the tribe r just shit out of
wucken luck. Accept it! Let me administer the wucking cosmic release. Let me do
my job. And start again!
Honestly chief, u and all of the girls and boys in the tribe r gunna
luvvvv the 5th dimension.
Seeing as that’s where u’s all
really come from. It’ll be just like going home! And there is no duality there,
so there r no wars. Wouldn’t u’s like to live in real peace chief?! Or is that
just u snake talk? There’s no money in heaven, is there?! So let me tell u
chief. I know it to be very sick and crooked snake talk. When u talk about
peace and honour.
Like the rest of what comes out of u filthy power mad gob, u have no
idea about what constitutes the words that u r wucking talking about.
U r shit chief! Of the very
best, fade away, wucking outdated kind. Plain and simple, u’s is the outdated
crap. U use by date came up a 100,000 years ago. I should have pulled the plug
on u’s them. But I got distracted looking for sex, drugs and somebody with name
and shape really worth being intimate with. A slight distraction.
They’re around, but they r
hard to find. Not to worry. I straighten out those negative-positive, emotional
attachments hooks now. With I am Light, and so the wuck r they. Who constitute
my enemies, and my allies. Whom I both dearly appreciate. So much so that I
leave them both to their real game and play mine. Solo.
We r all points of consciousness in the One Self that is way
beyond consciousness, mate. But chief. Let me ask u? For I am curious, 24/7
these accelerated days. Maybe the answer really is in u see thru cods! Who wucken
knows?! For how can u not doublecross a name and shape? When it has already
doublecrossed itself, with wucken wordslug lies a plenty.
That’s a wucking hell of a wucking temptation! Ay chief? How to gullet
the already gulleted gullible?! Pretty hard to resist that, when u mind groin’s
exposed. To something as supposedly satisfiable as black gold. And when u have
6 ladies to dance with. Well, that is wucken big business. Apparently.
So, NOW! I am the
anti-antiChrist, anti everything, when it comes to rotten wordslugs. That r
made of nothing, but already dead letters. Like uself. I am the hot, blazing
sun. The Towering Inferno. Every day, I just get brighter and brighter and
wucken brighter. And hotter and hotter and hotter. And better and better and
better, at living the way that spirit wants me to live. U’s I’s r gunna wucken
fry something beautiful in the Light, sooner or later.
If u’s had half a brain, u’s would agree to me administering sweet
justice right now. But u won’t! Because u’s is as thick as wucking bricks! R
n’t u chiefy?! No kung fu artist could crack your wucking steel capped skull.
There’s a psychedelic cosmic
bull coming straight at u’s, but u’s refuse to open u’s eyes to it. Why?! I’ll
tell u why, lust! Lust chief! Lust in the dust that u own minds have helped
make into a beautiful holographic world for u’s to play on.
The lust for wealth and power. For ego survival and ego worship, in a
dreamt up wucken hologram. Where u get most of the material cake. For money and
oil, u sold u souls to the devil karma. Well chiefy! Here I am with 2 mighty
powerful offsiders, to wucking collect!
How does it feel to be a
rolling letter chief? Here’s the real news! We 3 r gunna make circles out of
each and every last one of u’s up and down straight liners. Sooner or later.
If u can’t pay up with
transcendental Light on the dot. Well, u’s’ll just have to do some time in the
5th wucking dimension. And charge up u wucking Light batteries.
Won’t u’s?!
Ayyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!! U wucking
disgusting turkeys!!! Christ! Allah! Buddha! Nisarga! Even to calls u’s turkeys
is to insult that fine bird’s flesh! To call u’s pigs, would be to demean that
animal’s intelligence! Because it can generate a laugh. U can’t. Unless u r
pocketing profit, somehow. U see only with 3D eyes.
Me and them, me and them, me
and them, u r. Me and my wucken gang of thugs, and them. Others. The lesser
lifes. So u completely miss the paradox about being able to play as the single
and the entire whole, at the same time. Wuck do u ever miss it.
About the ONLY thing that u got wucken right, is that u wucking brains
r made of clay. Or wet stardust. And if u won’t stop killing, after all that u
have been instructed with. Countless wucking times! Then u shall be killed! It
is written. Or, it soon wucken will be.”
The chief looks perplexed
again. He’s nauseated. No I, no ego. It doesn’t make any sense to him. He
doesn’t savy dimensional talk. In fact, he is lost to it. He puts food into his
mouth. When it’s put in front of him. He excretes. With half a dozen bodyguards
outside the door. He puts his dick into a brain dead squaw now and again, when
he doesn’t fall asleep. He gives orders, and legs shake. Sometimes other
letters die. Sometimes lots of them too.
The Z’s for instance, the I’s must cut back a bit. Every so often. Lest
there be too many zombies to unbalance the rear.
This stuff he understands. The
power play in the alphabetic world is his only domain. The squaws reckon that
there is nothing wrong with his semen, even though it sure looks like there is.
Still, u couldn’t list that as an asset. Not yet anyway. The wiley old bugger
tacts again. U read the plot instantly Zero.
He’s thinking that if he can show u how much his people love and adore
him, that u might cut him some slack.
U might deal with him. Say,
take out 90% of the nation, and leave him 10%. As his labour force. It could go
quite well, he’s calculated. Same cake, 90% less hungry bellies to get into it.
90% more for him, and the rest can slog it out for the other tenner. A true
politician he is. An alien’s delight. U know that this is what he is thinking
Zero. It’s obvious, because he has that slick, sick, wry smile that u know so
well. That arrogant, conceited curl of the lips that goes with bloated, self
importance. That stiff neck thrust upwards. That happens when turds get stuck
in the throat. Just b4 they r ejected into public consciousness, mass media,
mad space.
He not only looks like a
ruthless old prick. He is one. Is he a Saddam? Or has he got a western
background? U just can’t tell where he was supposedly eduacated and who armed
him. And u don’t wucken care either. U just want him very dead and very
evaporated. Wuck burying him! He’s not worth that. Nor is any other letter in
the wucking alphabet. Better to send them straight back into the Light where
they came from.
That’s the way. Straight down the guts and wuck wucking around on the
flanks for too long. U’s has a picnic or 2 on the flanks. Then u’s come back
into the centre, to do the real thing.
“There must be some deal that
we can make with u’s great spirit Zero! For the sake of my beloved people I’s.
For whom I have laboured so long and hard. Whose interests and rights r always
in my thoughts! Surely we can deal!,” blurts out the chief.
Here, he turns around like
Anthony Quinn did in the film version of Lawrence of Arabia, and screams. At
the top of his lungs.
“Because I am a wucken river to my people!”
Whilst flinging his arms out to the hordes. In the wucken con artist
pose of the century. It damn near drove u to puke Zero.
Now those closest in, roared.
Like wuck. They screamed, on ya chiefy! U spit them out those power word turds!
For fear of an arrow in the
guts from somewhere later on, if they didn’t. They gave their total support.
The chief’s inner guard, being spread randomly everywhere for a 1000 metres
around him. Would report anybody who didn’t go rah rah rah! If not, the camera
replays would get them. And they would get the chop, the bullet, the scud, or
the arrow or whatever. Later on. After they’d had the old electric wires up the
groin treatment.
For a letter to say I am the one and only 3D power, is rather
dangerous. For lots of other letters, as well as for themselves. In the long
run, this stuff is karmic dynamite.
Especially if they r
psychologically unbalanced and under constant attack from their own wordslugs.
As well as the wordslugs of the inner circle, war mad hordes around them. On
the physical or psychical levels, it’s not a nice situation. It makes living at
the grass roots level exceedingly dangerous. And very expensive. It costs the
soul a lot.
The idiotic drudgery that many
mini capitalists go thru for money does. It’s not tutti frutti stuff, that’s
for sure. Not if u find uself in the way of the mad machines that letters
create. And roll along in.
Looking for rivals or
scapegoats to kill. Anything to get the killing lust out of them. The chief
though had underestimated the numbers. Sure, he got a bit of a boost from close
in. So did Hitler. So do they all. Further out than the inner circle though,
and all of the way to the outer limits of the 25 million assembled I’s, he got
sweet wuck all. Just dead silence.
Pretty spooky stuff really. Freddy’s gear.
Out there, on the big screens
all around. For the I’s were very technological. They had seen the chief get
his balls shot off by a demonic spirit. They had seen six princesses of the
inner circle murdered, in cold black type. By the demon. In tears, they’d
watched those lovely examples of their glorious womanhood. Who’d suffered so
much by choice aftermath, evaporate. They did the evolution shuffle on their
big screens.
To go beyond the dust, and be gone from them forever. And they weren’t
gunna go rah rah rah for an obviously powerless very small chief I letter
anymore.
Once they’d thought that their
chief was a winner, but that was in the old days. Now, they despised him for
his obvious weaknesses. They had real proof that he was wucking useless in the
real gun toting. Fire breathing demon, putting out business. Even though they
were mighty appreciative that it wasn’t them who had been nearly sterilised.
They hated him now. So the chief was getting Mussolini panicky, because
of the mumbles of discontent going around. When some wucking idiot letter I
threw a hatchet at the kid. Who dodged it like a wucken Ninja, and then drew.
Both of his pearls, lightning fast.
U didn’t try and stop him
Zero. U said nothing. It was his right to blow that dickhead wucker I away.
Blam! Blam!
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Went the wolf kid’s guns. The
perp disintergrated, and the kid smiled, then laughed. Quite devilishly too. He
let out a low wolf growl rumble. Just to top it off. Wuck! The kid is gorgeous
Zero. What a mighty little player, the little wucker is.
Enraged that some dirty rotten,
low down skunk of an I. Had taken a real sneaky, low down, nasty hatchet shot
at the beloved kid, Stevee went beeswuckingzeerk. He just took off and started
stomping everything in sight. Like he was doped up to the eyeballs with a
potent mixture of loco weed and pure speed. Hee hawing like a crazy donk, he
was. The ammo pack bouncing around on his back, like a xmas pudding. Around the
xmas table.
It was all recorded. Like every wucking thing is. That a 100,000 years
of disgust for dirty rotten, low down, super ignorant, so called human killing
despicableness. Came out of him in 5 minutes.
They reckon, though it has
never been proved. That Stevee took out 50,000 of them, in that time. Warriors,
squaws, kids and babes. Stevee give ‘em all the old, see u on the other side
treatment. He shut the wuckers up, for wucking good too. They won’t have to
worry about wanting anything anymore. There’s no body thing burden for them
now. They lost their arseholes in the pandemonium, they did.
Stevee, he done them a wucken big favour.
He’s really giving is old
Stevee. He cares. About nothing, like u wouldn’t believe. Especially when u’ve
ripped the divine roots out of him. And shoved them back up his cosmic arse. A
zillion light years or so. Tell Stevee that he is made of transcendental Light,
and u’ll get to watch his ears spin, sooner or later. 360 degrees too. Both
ways, simultaneously. Does he know that he can do that sort of stuff? He will
when he’s wucking done it. Won’t he coach Zero?!
As for u coach Zero. Well it
went onto film that u just threw u wucken hands up into the air and screamed
ecstatically.
“For wucks sake! I can’t take
u’s wucking agro currents anywhere! Without u’s blasting and stomping away!
Now kid! Now! Get ‘em. Kill ‘em kid! Kill them all!……No wucking
prisoners!!!!!”
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
BLAM! BLAM!
Oh Zero! What can be said. U r
a ruthless killer sometimes. Ten out of ten Zero! Ten out of ten. When u attack
the prime devil letter. With such divine force.
*
At the camp of a 17 million
A’s, not too far away. The chief of the A’s and the chief of the M’s, who was
visiting. Were watching a live feed. They looked somewhat anxious, having seen
what they’d long dreamed of. And been severely frightened by it. Terrified
actually. That is, they witnessed the chief of the I’s having his balls shot
off.
The A’s and the M’s were allies, by circumstance, more than by choice.
When they saw u grab u cosmic rifle Zero, and start blasting everything in
sight. They weren’t happy. When they saw u tossing cosmic grenades around as if
they were bliss bombs. They became even more depressed. For despite their long
held grudge against the I’s. For forcing them to fight it out for 2nd
and 3rd spot.
U looked like too much like an unbeatable devil to them.
A lot of symbolic language
went to and fro betweeen them. Advisers hissed at them. They hissed back. They
knew though that they had nothing to stop u. Absolutely nothing. They knew that
u represented a cancerous scourge come to get them. War of the inner worlds was
at their doorstep. All that they could do was wait for it to kick the wucken
front door down. Resistance is useless, was re running across their
mindscreens. It’s gunna get us, no matter what we do. Came next.
So they just sat there and
watched u, Stevee and the wolf kid clean up a cool million I’s. In just over 6
and a half minutes. They watched the huge I stampede as 24 million other
terrified I’s, headed helter skelter like for the wucken hills. Screaming at
the top of their bloodthirsty lungs. As many were crushed to the death by their
own kind as u and the crew shot in the head or stomped on Zero.
It was an absolute wucken
bonus. Especially when u’s torched the place. And killed all of the babies that
had been left. Without a hand to rock the cradle. It was the biggest wucking
fire that u’ve ever seen Zero. It was wucken beautiful actually. Those little
screams, they turned u’s on. No wucken end.
Then the live feed line went
dead. The chief of the A’s looked at the chief of the M’s. Sweat ran off their
brows. And all over and around their clammy balls. They were at a loss for
words for once. The cameras at the crime scene had all been blown away. Or
stomped into the ground. The chief of the A’s and the chief of the M’s called
for their runners. They told their runners to take messages to all of the
peasant status letters. The ones who couldn’t either afford or handle the available technology, that is. Like the
Tasmanians, Queenslanders, Victorians and others. They told their runners to
tell the other chiefs to come to a big council meeting. At the secret rock
spot. where once in a blue moon, they all met up.
Because, the runners told
later, the chief of the I’s had had his balls shot off by a demon spirit. And
the very existence of the alphabet of profit sustainability, and the coalition
of those under the hammer of the big wucker I’s, was under threat.
When the chief of the P’s got the message, he at first thought that it
was a joke. But the more that the runner told, the more that he listened.
It went that way for all of
the other peasant letter chiefs too. A and M though, had an encounter of the 4th
kind. When u burst into their quarters Zero. Brandishing u guns. With Stevee
and the kid looking real roughneck dangerous alongside of u. The 3 of u’s
filthy dirty and wearing battle scars and mean, downright nasty scowls. Bad
guys, the lot of u’s. Evil to the bone.
U’s told ‘em, those shithead A
and M chiefs, that all forward combinations from the I’s will die. That no this
or that forward equation will be tolerated. If though they reversed themselves.
And could hit u with earnest questions. Like, the Light, am I?! Then u would
spare them. Maybe. But that anything like. Limited shit, I am, or am I?! Would
under no circumstances be tolerated. It would be destroyed on sight.
They froze at first, but
warmed when it appeared that u weren’t going to shoot them down. In cold black
type. Politicians live a bit longer. Soldiers and civilians die first. That’s
where they r were at, and u’s knew it Zero.
Sure. U let the creeps live.
Because it was part of u master plan. Wasn’t it Private? They’ve wucked u up
the arse for a wucken long time. Now it’s payback time. If those currents had
any idea of what u were really playing at. U wouldn’t need cosmic bullets to
kill them.
They’d dissolve the very moment that they popped out of the womb. That
is the Matrix, Word Volcano Mountain. The target Zero. The wucking Matrix.
Death to it Zero. Death. Then true life for u. Ah cha cha. It sounds like a
good plan, and there is wuck all else to do. In a dream. Except to take out the
seen, noisy petrol generator. And switch the unseen, silent, currented Light
back on.
So it was recorded that u pulled
out 2 decks of the 26 most wanted letter cards Zero. U’s palm spread them out
in front of the very frightened chiefs. To whom u represented a kind of psychic
Al Capogne. U’s showed them with one deck, how the ego Joker I’s always came
out of the number 9 spot, to claim 1st prize. Being the oppurtunity
to wuck with a neuron and set a pattern of domination up. Their way.
U’s showed them how the M’s
must run their guts out from the number 10 position to keep up. With a bit more than a bit of biff,
getting thru the B to H packs. U’s tells how, if an M accidentally treads on an
I’s ankle, they get the shit beaten out of them. By gangs of I’s who hang back
to do violence to the other letters. Particularly M’s. Until the I’s get to the
lead. Then the gangs turn on the A’s.
Who r really just pacing
themselves to let the I’s get past them. Like they always do. But not the M’s,
or any of the others, will the A’s let pass them. Because it is a pecking order
based on pure selfishness. It’s fighting all of the way. It’s unbelievable
really that any sort of order is maintained at all. In this carnage of self
interests and imagined, false purposes.
Then with the other deck, u’s
explains what u told then b4. That if they reverse the I am this or that
equation, into a nice question, with the I coming last. Then u might spare
them. Basically Zero, u sewed the seeds of alphabetic revolution, right then
and there.
Having slipped into u
political high gear, u’s ensured that discontent would skyrocket amongst the alphabetic
masses. For, no way would the I’s consent to being last. They would rather be
the 1st to be blown away, than go to the end of the alphabet. That’s
how ego stupid they r. They’ll die for dirt, flag and money, having never even
heard of cosmic consciousness.
Therefore, once again, the
remaining 25 letters would have to take them on again. To try and usurp them.
There would have to be another revolution. In short Zero, u started the 3rd
World War of the Letters, off. This, was and is u Master or Goddess plan. For
the more that they kill each other, the less work for u to do. Not that u have
a predisposition to find the laziest spot in the universe Zero. But if it
should happen that the work should go on automatic, as u r quite aware it is
gunna.
Well, wuck Zero. U might just hang in that lazy spot for a while. Soak
it all up and enjoy the R & R. Rest the donk right up, then push on towards
the Matrix.
How does it feel Zero!? Pretty
good, ay! No symbolic junk, letter currents wuck with u, and live too long to
tell about it. Ay. A 100,000 years is just a glitch in essence. It is written
that u know how to kick wordslug wucken arse. U know how to kick it clean into
the next dimension. U r a wucking artist Private! Of a very special kind. The
kind who will inherit cosmic consciousness. Don’t deny it and u’ll inherit u
fair share of the cosmic goods.
So, it was also recorded, that
although u didn’t snot the chiefs. Because u needed them to pass the word about
what is future acceptable, and what is not. U and u’s offsiders did brutally
take out a million or so A’s though. As with the I’s, 1,000,000 were trampled
to death by their own kind.
In the instant exodus that u’s evoked. By shooting or stomping every A
in sight. Once u’d said u bit to the chiefs, they just fled skywards. U and the
crew though took to the streets. It was better than the opening day of sitting
duck season. There was even footage of the kid and Stevee bursting into one of
the many A nurseries. For they had them everywhere, to cope with the loss of
parent A’s that u’s were killing out in the field.
The kid shot them in their
cradles. With 2 cosmic bullets thru the head, he de savaged them. And sent them
back to Paradise, to join in on something completely different. Instead of continuing
with the wucked game that they'd had the misfortune, and good luck, to be born
into.
The good luck being that they were in the right place at the right
time, to cop a cosmic bullet.
Stevee, he just tipped them
out and squashed them hard on the polished, semi wooden floor. Sometimes their
eyes just popped, and sometimes the whole lot of them gave way. B4 they started
their runs down dissolution alley. This footage also showed u Zero bursting in,
when they were nearly finished. And immediately discovering the one baby A
who’d almost got away. Like Custer’s horse.
Like any boss would have done, u discovered that which had not been
done properly. It was in the corner, curled up against the wall. It was sucking
its thumb happily, when u blew its wucking head off. Then the film showed that
u’s turned to u’s offsiders. And fairly howled Zero.
“If I’ve told u currents once,
I’ve told u’s a 1000 wucking times! NO WUCKING PRISONERS!!!”
Well, the kid and Stevee just
grinned at each other and said straight back to u.
“Wuck off Zero! We left that
one to see if u’s would find it! We r just checking up that u r on the ball!”
It all went on the tapes. That’s what happened. Then u’s said.
“I thought that u’s mighta! U
sneaky wucken currents! U can test me all that u like. I am the one, and the I
am proves it.”
That night, b4 the campfire,
something radical happened. Right b4 the Stevee’s nose too. He was stuffing a
mango down his throat, and the kid was wolfing down another snakeburger. Whilst
nibbling on a side salad. Well, there was a flash of Light and the kid aged 3
years in 3 seconds. Stevee just about shit himself. Especially when he noticed
something mighty funny about the kid’s numerous mutations. In that a lot of
them looked exactly like u did, at that age Zero. Well the donk put it to u
that u and the kid sometimes seemed to be the same item.
I thought that u’s’d never
notice Stevee!,” u’s replied.
“I am catching up to myself,
for sure. Hey kid!”
The kid looks across with snake juice dribbling down their jaw. She’s
female and she smiles at u.
“U’s r promoted to Kid,
capital K. Congratulations. U wanna go out wordslug killing after tea, Kid?”
The Kid licks their chops.
“Sure Zero! Sure! Love to!,”
she answers u.
She’s a cutie Zero. Got a nice
lean frame. Got a red bandanna around her forehead. Looks good. She’s game.
She’s exactly the sort of Kid that u’ll want and need around u tonight. Ultra
compliant and ultra deadly, when it comes to the Real game. That’s her. Hang
on! She’s just morphed again. Re run that as that’s him. Thank’s Sam.
“What about u Stevee?! It’s
been a long day. We showed them all how to play mindball today! For wucken
sure. ‘spose u wanna sleep do u?! Or do u’s wanna join me and the Kid out in
the dark fields?!”
“Just u’s currents try and
stop me!,” hee haws the donk.
“I am the Donk, capital D
tonight! Don’t u worry about that. I am gunna stomp on some shit tonight, let
me tell u’s. I am in the mood and pretty soon, I’ll be in the wucken groove
too.”
Well Zero, u hear the proof
that minds do change, all of the time. Most certainly, would that have not got
past Stevee’s lips 6 months back. U’s is up on u semi physical feet again Zero.
U’s just can’t wait to kill that which has lied and lied and lied to u,
for so long.
“What r u made from Kid?!,”
u’s roars at the beautiful 7, going on 8 year old youngun’. U’s sounds like a
hardened battle veteran. U voice rocks the air. Stevee even saw the moon fart,
then tilt a bit. The wucker, he loves this game. It beats the shit out of doing
hard time in level 1, he reckons. Wuck! Is he ever in with the IN crowd. That’s
the donk’s evaluation, thus far.
“I am made of transcendental
Light Zero!!!,” the Kid roars back at u.
“I am so glad that I am not an
American or anything that can be named by a word! Wuck that spirit!!!!”