the thing of the matter is that i ran into this reality portal the other day in which was screaming from a voice that the world as you nice people have been patiently perceiving it will be ended in a soonish manner. I and all of the transports of my imaginarely enacted civilization kit make it known to them voice overs that we must be seen to pictures for sentimentalities sake. While I have heard of such rumors, it seems unlikely from the amount of talk that has not amounted to such developments within our recent past, said the girl with the fat gay spanish eyebrow. But sirs, the thing of the matter, as is before us, is serious. These wise and unshapely beings , which possess an ultimately queer and un-timely absorption rate, have prepared telepathic picture shows to convince us kids of their wild wild notions of omegacized saturations. They go and draw out a better understanding of what is already mostly understood by pointing onto the stigmatized strife humping mute-ants that did and have created a skeptical world of constant scorn and constant-er disbelief. How we could bare so long without our original magical prowess'iss'siz is beyond them and their immaculate rejections. Then, say they, when we were finally able to catch sight of that lovely necromancy of antiquity once a gain, it was brought forth to us in the form of senseless apprentice-ness, being enacted to expedite some bullshit visions of a few regionally minded collectors and turd-chuckers.
to contrast such wasted harvests, they showed us some of the glories brought forth by the old tumeronistipapint magicians of sangreal, whom would bend seas into breathable skies for the sheer hu-rumpf of altered flights. We watched in awe as they created sweeping shades of ultra-sonicly orgasmic symphonic maneuverings as the people of the land squealed with glee and finagled through their newly formed air rivers. Each movement bled into the next and images were seen as they were from the minds of these people of other. they saw each other as whatever one would think them self to be, most of the images nothing -like anything we have yet to recognize from our approaching former existence. communiques through unbeknownst notions of madness, streams of screamingly strange pulsating colors and emanating visualization's of undetermined frequencies there were. Magical creatures merging each others beings in and out of size, creating and destroying each cycle simultaneously. Ohh the festive doings such as thus. Now to set on the porous pout of imagery as it can go in a factual fixation of those still quite refusing to unhinge their god given light rights sent forth from a distant past that is all to similar to these futuristic visions. Those of whom refuse will see nothing of these fantastic realms, for we cannot contact you if you do not look out for these various variety's of possible probabilities. through there waveature we can now see the displaying's of the seas boilin up and the skys turning deep deep red upon the effervescence vampires whom squall in horror inside of our once known to be mirror realm. if you just remain conscious throughout the tunnel, you can glimpse any world that they have possessed throughout there ancestors aeons of flight. they wish us not to become despondent by these images of our relation, concept dependency fading out , they say it does not help the course to become so attached to the course of course. the advice of the pictures translates to anal redemption and makes loose to shit whatever has the potential to be shat out, leave it all, there is nothing new to breach upon inside the real real realism of old standardized thought cloakings, the time is nigh, we must magnify those thoughts, they say, then pull out their foundations and create entirely new realms from the expansions and continue on in that fashion til these things become unsung into the most magnificent and all encompasing hymn. New and lovely brain processes have been in purgatory deep inside and have remained always with you despite the fact that you are just no fun anymore, they told you of their powers but did you ever formally acknowledge the invitation. Many are very aware of these capacities, they have been moderately enacted, spoken of much, and written a million different ways since the drop. They have a tendency to come around fer a turn every turn or two, but usually they eventually end up gettin lost inside the current or regional taskmasters administrational disciplinarian reality systems, or closed out by the specialists. despite this, there shall always be of some whom can vaguely and consciously remember, although the many recollect unconsciously.
As of lately, It really hasn't been so much of an existence anyway, more of an utterance, yes, the market has run quite out of options, it was innovational for a while, just for the sheer sake of the creative evolution it took to get it rolling along. But the fun has all been drained away, it's really just the point of the point-less-ness of making a living making a living, these concepts need have nothing to do with currency and burden. So back now to the original intention of rapid growth, activation of the sleeping brains powers, its all right here, the blueprint is contained inside each and every one of us, if this is startling, possibly you should have spent more time studying the nature of your beastisis. We have mostly forgotten that this here land is all just a farm, the earth, yes, the earth is a farm, of course were not all native to this place, although many of the creatures here are, and have evolved from the naturaly occuring matter upon these fields and oceans. See, many of the creatures that are natural to this enviroment if anything even have helped its function, or at least have created a moderate symbiosis. but some of these initially transient creations we speak of have turned out to be sheer parasites whom have been idiling far too long, ignoring the supposed built in drive that had once made all of our species existence dependent upon flight of the interior fire. some have spent too many time pieces stagnating and wallowing about with no desire to cry out, nothing to offer but their filth and lack of cooperation. You see this was just an expierement, there have already been many quit like it, but dont let the semantics minamilaze your take on any personal journey you may have had, its not necessarily so trite, especially for those conscious of the possiblities, nothing was wasted, something will always be learned. take one for the team, they say, its all going back into the group fund, But still you know you have always been free to paint it how you wish, just be weary of the risk involved with linear comprehension. Because as personal as you think it, it will always involve some of the others. Remember we are trans-mutating anyone whom we have established wavelengths with and they of us.
Now, the original farmers planted some of the more disastrous seeds around 250,000 years ago. while many of them have expanded their need to wail by mastery of adaptation and exploration of option, many have continually remained stagnate, remaining sleepend by thought cloggers and death drivers, self inflicted thrall mongers. Experiencing periods of vast evolution only to balance it with periods of vast de-evolution, stuffed deep inside of frames of reference. Some of these spawned creatures, more so, the wailing ones, the eaters of the light, those of an ultra conscious nature, whom have adapted accordingly by way of those naturally occuring sentient beings around them, they have been designated for non-continous continuation upon an independent bardo, and have been instructed by the galactic farmers to tie up a few loose ends and tickle a few springs for them as they cannot set foot back on the planet because it would begin a, for the time being, unwanted re-growth process. the last time they had touched down some 5000 years ago, they had spawned a revolution of the soul for our people of the flesh and sent our brains into overdrive. this will not happen again until the surface is cleared of the last of the sallowly mutated ones and all their vibe harshing principles of defeatism. the course has been cleared several times before. the clan mother and her 27 alchemists of 17,000 some odd years ago had explored similar grounds of an experimental sort, even conjuring many devices that the majority of current civilizations perspectives thought to be relatively new. They once or twice even perchanced upon the forbidden fruit of fission. and much like our current lapse, the moment that they realized what they were in the process of doing they tried to hide it away. but it was too late. their reptilian nemesis had discovered there magic by means of thier brain scanning devices, another immplement that many present day breeders of the reptillian sect have thought cuttting edge. So in preperation for the coming winter, those who control the sun, the bringer of the whale song, the farmers of the galaxy, have sent the eaters of light these agendas. First off, we have been instructed to take up a hearty collection of sea mammals, some of these specific species have grown here so long that they contain within some of the most amazing visions in this galaxy, billions of years worth of information encoded into thier being. I awake to find myself a part of this enactment.
I sit on the edge of their containment units, the necessary number needed for information transfer have been rounded about in a artifical waiting port habitat that, upon waking terms, appears as some distorted hippie commune sea world without all the lug nuts and their freakish showholes. there have been arrangments made with some of the larger galactic ships to stop by and make the transfer before the place goes fer gone. and me well i have recieved instructions to make sure and turn off my body before the world drops, i have received instructions and a power-down kit containing a needle. im supposed to shot myself full of this sleep they have prescribed me and multiple others because of the fact were just so fkn heavy. i see it like im putttin myself down like a dog, im not sure precicley how this process is to work. Will they pick me up? Can i bring along my killer body and my killer hair? Will there be chille rellenos and wickedly bodacious melting visions. Possibly I must just stop my heart and physical function to be able to survive the transformation. er maybe my body aint comin with me at all, maybe i gotta end my repertoire here and leave the mort to set before the explosion so my conscientious-ness-less doesn't get tainted by the destructoid perversions, man. i think i may have been instructed to perform magical rites and bury myself upon my parents lawn now that i recollect. Im wonderin here if get a new suite, er maybe there aint no more suits, maybe there aint no more nuthin at all. maybe its time to stop the squirmin', maybe the transfer kills human tensions and anxieties. maybe it dont hurt when it dont breath, right. this is all normalacy here, these concepts are clear when the demon box aint kickin in yer ear. somethin much stranger for now, all changed, tiny aeroplanes have dropped down next to this realm and i am instructed to board, inside now, this is a convenient store set in 1986 sacramento california, but look out of the window this is still an aeroplanes carcass. Now to sit down on this plain next to a discerning and asexual creature whom I have been designated to feel love towards. initially we meet and lock legs together, this is how we meet or mate, we are together now for an entire eternity with in the span of each of us spacing on the moment for no more than that spacious moment. Now it takes on female electrics, she has come to me to stop her leaky hick from leaking. he has followed her around for 2736 years and it must be stopped. initially i am only an excuse, enough of a space to make them stop their muddling. no matter now, this man has found his own distraction, his eyeballs follow the stewards ass as she mesmerizes him with a carton of marlboros. were going up now. my family is all own board as well. my father and his jim morrison throw rug, my brother is in possession of a multitude of miniature refrigeration units. everything is becoming clear as to the point of all this madness. Its only an optional variety on realities claim. this is an ad-vert-is-ment. a commercial for the end of the world being broadcast live to anyone willing to open their brains wide enough to look into this non-specific specified realm. those whom are curious enough find their selfish in a behind the scenes diarama. our superhero may die now, bring out yar needles and stick yourselves back to sleep. the baby they were all trying to save by breaking its fall was already dead when they pulled it out of the sky, but those moments in between as they saw it spiraling downward were enough to create the realm where the child was saved and there was no need to end this all. our brains are living a multitude of existances within the same breath. Have we departed? Did they save the whale god creatures? Are they on bored heading towards our new hope-filled stomping grounds. As long as we keep a furrowed brow then the future explosions of weirdness shall be brought forth. Hu-rah.
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