I’M GLAD THAT I AM NOT AN AMERICAN (THE REAL GAME)

                                                       

                 

                             

                                        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 th