Day Twenty: Journal of Infinite Testimony on When You Get To The Top Of Fuck Mountain All By Yourself

When you get to the top of fuck mountain all by yourself you will have many realizations. First, you will ask yourself what was the point to get all the way to the top of the mountain so fast. Did you enjoy the view on the way up? When you get there will you take lots of selfies and publish them to the internet? Will there even be an internet connection at the top of fuck mountain? Will you have been the first on the top or the last? Will there be a lot of garbage at the top and if so who brought it there? Are you the only one who exists at the top of fuck mountain or are you just in some weird time warp where everyone gets to go to the top but not at the same time? Is the top of the mountain even real? Could you have gotten there faster if you had ridden your high horse? Will you miss your friends? Did you have any real friends to begin with? You will ask yourself a million and one questions and every time that you ask yourself a question you will find an answer but you will question that answer and find another answer and question that question.

You may even sit at the top of fuck mountain for an eternity asking and answering your own questions. This will cause you to wonder who is the first, who is the last and who is in the middle? Are you real or some figment of your own imagination? Is your imagination a figment of your own idea of yourself? You will know what you know. You will wonder why you don’t know what you don’t know. After you ask, answer and find millions of solutions for the same questions over and over again your mind will eventually become tired and it will become silent. This will be the first moment that you are able to understand the peace that all of the great religions have talked about in the past. In the beginning, you will think you have gone mad because once your thinking stops you will think that you don’t exist because your thinking was what you thought you thought you were and that was the only way for you to exist. You will accept and find peace with that.

You will still doubt and question yourself a million times over because you will wonder on the past, why you didn’t do this right, why you didn’t do that right and you will be right back into the trap of the mind again right after you experience the profound thing called peace. You will continuously go back and forth with these glimpses of peace and then these questions of why nothing is happening anymore. This is when you realize that nothing needs to happen because your thoughts are just like arrows being shot into the sky. You will become the greatest archer in your own mind. Shooting aimless arrows in the beginning but eventually, you will get tired of having them get shot back into your own heart. Eventually, you will shoot them straight to the heart of all matters. This will open your heart up wide and vast. Because of this, it will open up all the supposed separate hearts around you who come into close proximity of you.

At first, blood and gore will fall out onto the earth and you will feel like you are being punished and that you are punishing. This soon will pass. You will realize that for every demon you have ever had; they really were angels just trying to set you free but your resistance to them is what made them into devils to begin with. At the edge of said mountain, you will see a man appear. He will teach you how to fly. You will, at first, be scared because you have only known life with your feet always on the ground, always attached to some idea, concept, a theory of yourself. A copy of yourself, a memory of yourself, a conversation of yourself to the other and the other to yourself. You will at first hate this man because he will go against everything you have ever known. You will doubt the capacity of being able to fly because you won’t see that you have had wings the whole time. They have just been closed. This man will push you so hard to the point of breaking in certain moments but this breaking is necessary because in order to be able to fly you will have to be able to break through the velocity of all of the clouds, debris and the theoretical ideas of gravity.

Your whole world will turn upside down. You will see the politics of all of life. You will see the priest finally as the devil. The devil as the savior. The politician as the talker of promises. The talker of no promises as the real one who can keep them. Everything will seem very disoriented at first but this is because you have never flown upside down before. You have only seen the right side up-ness of gravities fate. Once you get the hang of this you will fly into the ionosphere. You will hear about the One. You will realize that the One is completely connected to the All and that the All is completely connected to the One.

You will laugh as you break free from the whole idea of this. You will make contact with space for the first time. You will see infinity. Infinity will be the first amazing experience for you because all of your incarnations have told you that there is only one path. You will see All the paths simultaneously. You will get to choose any which way, any which one and even none. Your choice will not matter to you anymore because you will know that the truth is the truth and it is not as important as what you think the truth is but how you also feel about it. How you feel about what you think ‘about’ and how you actually live according to the ideas will bring you anywhere in the whole entire universe. You will for the first time even know exactly how it is to be completely free from all ideologies, belief systems, religions, sciences, political parties, sexes, races, nations, creeds and any other boxes that get buried into the ground by eternity.

You will say thank you to all of the amazing moments, all of the amazing people, all of the amazing amazingness of your entire existence experiencing the experiences of the crystallization of your soul. You will for the first time merge with all of the existence and this time; it will no longer be bigger than you. You will be in complete alignment with it. Equal to it. For the first time, you will experience the joy of the pure moment of all moments.

You will no longer be able to write books theorizing All and Everything and Nothing because for the first time you will be All and Everything and Nothing. You, Other, Each Other will no longer have any meaning.

Everything will mean nothing to you but you don’t have to take my word for it. Just climb up the mountain. You are it.

Day Nineteen: Journal of Infinite Testimony on The Real Revolution Will Not Be Televised, There Will Be No Audition, You Are Not An Actor

By the time, we wrote this down it had already been too late but that didn't mean we shouldn't write it down. Just in case, there is anyone who wishes to read it. That's if anyone wants to take the time out of their busy lives being busy. To read something worthwhile besides the same old stories of birth and death and war and destruction. Anyone idiot with a fraction of a piece of shit in their head can write that kind of story. All you have to do is cut the cord that connects you to the source of your origins. That's easy. Everyone has been reading and writing that sort of story since what we know the beginning of time is. Ever since we took two sticks and rubbed them together and made a fire we have known how to do that sort of thing. Then after that, we as what is known as man took the woman by her hair and dragged her across millennial while we killed things bigger than us.

Made up stories about us being the biggest thing to ever happen and then we devised a million and one ways to try and escape our own traps that we set. Although now this story is different. Maybe even to call it a story might not even really do it much justice. It is more like the thread of life attempted to be conveyed through words. Except for the meaning is wherever your own understanding of what this life is for you. You that you know yourself to be without any doubt. Whatever point of reference in time that you can say that you would exist, could exist and do exist. That is the first place where we would start this story or thread of words that you give meaning to.

The other thing that I can most definitely tell you that this is not. This is not a thread that is about being above or below or being left or being right or one talking and not listening or one listening and not talking or one up on top of a mountain or one in a valley. One that is rich or one that is poor. One that is hungry or one that is full. One that is for or one that is against because none of these states of times or points of reference even really truly matter. After all, they are all just made up things. Made up points in time that we choose to only see from the linear perspective that they all are. Children's fairy tales if you will. Leading you down a million and one pathways to the same place. A long narrow corridor with infinite doorways all empty rooms explored or unexplored. Furniture or no furniture. Everything inside or nothing filled to the brim with no lock and no key. No contract and no signature because even if you knew the terms you wouldn't even agree to them. They would be an insult to the very thing you were created from. Too vast to hold or comprehend. Too narrow and confined to jump in.

Everything leading right back to itself and itself back to nothing and nothing literally being everything all at once. This same thread could be expressed in many ways. It could be written, drawn, fucked, killed, let go of, held onto, moved, fixed, broken, healed, diseased, molten but could never be bought, sold, borrowed nor could you steal. Never attained unless one saw all and never complained. Even rhymed you could time it because clocks aren't really ticking. They just piss people off because they watch it and see what they are missing. It's also funny how far out brings you closer when you see the ghost that resides in the cloister. If you keep your ear to the ground then you can hear all that has listened. If you defer from the sound then you can still see it glisten. You will see what you will see but no one can you even tell. Even the smallest whisper and the loudest yell will do you no justice. The center is the compass. It shows you just us. You and me and me and you. Until there's no separation through and through.

There's no escape. Nowhere else you can go. It doesn't matter the language you speak. The things you believe. Doesn't matter which gender, nation or creed. You can advertise it all you want. It's like selling freedom to a slave. Eventually, the navel becomes the nave. But if you see yourself drowning you will have to know how to swim. No one is jumping in to save you. You are the prophet, the aleph, the king. Just know there is nothing lost. Noah's ark got tossed because you were born with the ring. The ink is just as good as the paper it was printed on. You cannot be a prostitute unless you have a john.
You cannot have logic without poetry. A rose without a thorn doesn't have any beauty. The dark without a light continues to be the void. There is no peace within there and it will just leave you to feel annoyed. You will continue to move this way and that but that is only if you use your head as more than just a place for a hat. You will continue to feel sex in the predatory glow. It is an unquenchable thirst no matter how many seeds you can sow. No matter how many gardens you can say you can plant. A termite is not too much different from an ant. We do have to honor our wild animalistic need. The fuel without a fire doesn't burn the promiscuity. It's equivalent to being lost in the woods eventually you have to keep walking right through hades.

So keep walking until you cannot walk anymore. Keep talking until you cannot talk anymore. Keep listening until you cannot listen anymore. Everything you say. Everywhere you go. Everything you do will eventually be everything you can show. If you stay completely on your knees then eventually they will give way. They will only keep showing you that you bleed for another day. Also going up on the cross will only make you cross so you will have to come down. To wear the crown of thorns of ego shows you the endless trip around and around. Trust me when I say the ship doesn't sail in the middle of the desert it is only made of sand. Then the wind blows it completely away. From space, the earth is only water and land.

Also, there really is no lie when you know the truth. Empirical data will not bring you the proof. You can spin infinite webs and call yourself Charlotte but eventually, you will see you are just a harlot. A charlatan, the village idiot, a midget and a dick have so much in common with a bigot, a pussy, and a prick. They connect in the same land Cypriot. Ejaculating orgasm will lead to that ecstasy but never before plication finishes it's Iliad and odyssey. Shapes always fit their mating call cue. That frequency you can't hear before it is due. The scene cannot be set when no one is to be seen. We have to put the real back in reality. So why worry that the mirage is fake and the illusion unreal.

The cup is the only form empty of the sand lake. Everything outside can look like an endless contradiction when a contradiction is not expansion and opinion, not non-fiction. Addiction is just an idea with the little voice in your head. If you keep listening to it the sooner you will be dead. There is no audience there to put to sleep. Just slice that one cord that keeps you from going deep. When you get to the bottom it will flip the other way around. That is the role of the sand grain in the hour glass. Soon it gets turned around.

The queen of hearts was just one more frigid bitch. She is more like the wicked west then she is like Glenda the good witch. Those little munchkins that hung themselves in the trees were just scared of the monkeys mimicking flying Maltese. We know now how that story went down. Just a bucket of water thrown in her direction no one saw lack of emotion in the wicked witch of the west's disconnection. No one saw that life in that world was just a dream. Right, when Dorothy woke up she saw the conscious stream. The symbolism of all the real people in her life. The scarecrow, the tin man, the lion and the strife. What she did see is that home is already where she is but sometimes the tornado looks a little different upon close up. The center of the storm. The eye of the hurricane. That is the surest shore of the flattest plateau plane. Everything else outside just gets thrown about. The simplest. The complex even the straight line route. The trick is ascent and descent at the same time. This is the dance of the opposites with the sound of a rhyme.

This is the writing of this all out right on the first try. It shows you need no effort with no mind. This is the real revolution that will not be televised. There will be no audition. You will have to improvise. You will have to connect directly to infinity. There is no second chance of a state of originality. The original cannot be copied. The look cannot be replicated. You know you are either it or you are just domesticated. International travel also makes ignorance null and destroyed. We are spiritual beings transcending the void. You are not your iPhone also not your Android. A computer can only give you answers but never looks at what you seek or the seeker. You have to look through your own eyes for the peek to get deeper. The game you're playing with god, the universe or the truth or the reverse will not fool anyone except for you. There's one bullet, one killer, one mother, one trigger, no action, no drama and no thriller besides action you take. No separation besides the one that you make. The pen is still mightier than the sword. It still doesn't leave a trace.

Call the NSA they can only listen because they have no real face. They should just take notes and learn from the real masters. A fashion's gain is temporary. The classics are classic. The renaissance is happening again and again. The spirals going upward. The wolf died in the den. The spinning of circles well they will always spin. The headlines in the newspaper will never show you what is within. They only want to sell shit to a garden. Makeup couldn't even cover up Elizabeth Arden. The real flowers will grow. The seasons will change. It's good to ask yourself the question what's my original face? What's my original name? Can it be said out loud or does it fall on deaf ears? Does the illusion only grow when you are too busy counting the years? Existence only exists in this one pointed time. Stop comparing whether the bitter is different from a lemon or a lime. The monkey mind swings from branch to branch the same as cows continue to be slaughtered from the same ranch to ranch. Poison in the sting from the honey bee can't replace the drones they leave when there is no queen. The production of honey it then diminishes then the pollination of flowers finishes. Humanity ruins it unequivocal civilization through Babylon's fire and Zion's incarceration.

Go back to your origins and you will realize we are all slaves. There is no skin color in slavery. How one behaves creates the waves. We are slaves to our ideas of morality but don't look at our spirituality. Slaves to hatred those viewpoints outdated. Slaves to a reaction which makes the present subtraction. Slaves to thinking we know better when we have no idea. Slaves to our paperwork. Slaves to our jobs. Slaves to our freedom. Slaves to the mob. Slaves to agree. Slaves to our independence. Slaves to the idea of being free. We thought we were the master but we hung ourselves from the tree. We tried to control nature but it came and bit us back. We tried to control God but there is no God in lack. We tried to control money, honey, and the bees. Now everything is dying because we can't get off of our scraped knees.

We even have to pretend that we aren't being fake by pouncing on every word uncovering others mistake but never looking at the real source. There is no civil in civilization. There's no love in divorce. There's no science that can take away vulnerability. You can build your castle in the sky but not one thing comes close to infinity. You won't even look at your own part in this mess because if you did you would cauterize the less. The sticks in your eye only you can't see. The nature that you decry because you can't plead insanity. You can't expect anything to change when working from the same blueprint. No one sees the beauty in your eyes when you change the color tint. Everything is fake in your world of laws because you don't know the law of love shines on you from above. There is no other proof you can ever prove to be free. If you'd stop trying to control everything then you would actually see but your ignorance has dismissed everything you stuffed into a box. You think we need more guns but you don't look at your hearts locks. You don't look at the key you threw in the ocean because if you dived that deep there'd be no commotion.

This train left the station you waited too long for the right one. You are the conductor but you're still playing the dunce. The fool is the only one with eyes to see. The whole world is the kingdom. The universe has the deed. If you can't get out of your own duality then, at least, admit to yourself then, at least, admit you have a biased mentality. The two fold path leads to the one but neutrality is the only way unless your destructive poles are not done. The pendulum is tired as you can see. You're swinging on razor wire and drinking nuclear power from the sea. There is only one planet this one that your on. If you can't heal yourself and share that with all the others then your life is surely done. The same is done in Jewish inferiority and Muslim superiority. Religions are not the real authority. The media only wants to sell you your history without her-story. The same can be said for each side of the coin of logical policy. The stock market toll bell rings. The value of everything becomes hyperinflation, as well as everything made in china, becomes indoctrination.

Consumerism becomes unbalanced import. False contracts at birth. That ship has also sailed and is buried in the earth. The human heart is the real heart. The mind thinks it's the ruler. The blood is the cleanser. Identity the rumor. Balance is transcendence defier of theoretical gravity. The life is in living. The death is in the ground. The sex and violence together make your head spin round and round. The world turns and turns and turns. Moves straight through the galaxy. The sun shines its light like a lighthouse back can't rescue you from the sea. The change continues to change until we know ataraxia. Babels tower falls from starvation of Love's anorexia. Synthetic drugs. Prosthetic hugs. Scientific models running the runway. Their shoes broke from stepping all over the proof and disconnecting every Sunday. Idolatry. Remote viewing. Quantum physics. Tantric screwing. Too much symmetry taking out the sacred in geometry. The intimacy separated from sex. Narcoleptic lexicon produced superficial depth architexicon. Empires built from colors from the silence of lovers. Interacting distraction all the way back to our mothers and our fathers duplicity. The conduit only channels electricity. The wire changes proximity. The same as the fire keeps you warm on those cold nights but the truly frigid will never put you on their invite.

The papers are never going to show you the one true way. They were designed to keep you pushing them into the fray. If you decide to go you should go all the way. Lukewarm does not boil iron out of the clay. With your own hands, you can mold or break. Stagnant water is a swamp the river is not a lake. The doctor is also sick because the value is based on the industry. The pharmaceutical companies are the real evils ministry and the television media keeps you stuck in the idea of a logical fate. A + B + C to Z is impatience not willing to wait. E does equal mc squared but that is just relativity. Everything absolute becomes our disconnectivity. A screen is only a screen. A filter for your choking. The legs continue to beg to open the mind's reflexivity. The upside down image turns right side up and walks away from captivity. The power of the midnight sun refracts the array. The magazine doesn't show you but just to obey. The plastic flowers don't die. Rocks on the ground don't become stars. The tremble is in the lie. The tension and release shows' you the tease. It is on the tip of your tongue but it sometimes is hard to say with ease. The heart when you weigh could be lighter than a feather in the scales of the balance reveals where it is a tether.

Make an alliance with defiance and it will continue to set you free. Rely too much on reliance and become a tyrant minus divinity. Rip a hole in the wall and watch it fall. The Mayans fates design. Tag the tagger. Mark the mark. Kundalini up the spine. Take the step. Meditations on hotep bring you to the arc. Stream writing from the one eye. The one leg. The one mast. The one never beg. It's all in the book the Egyptian book of the dead. The cover tells you nothing. The secret is in the signal. The flowers can't be found growing in the vigil. You can search and search and search. The seed only shows us potentiality. The tree only shows us it's actuality. The fear only shows us that contraction. Expansion only happens when you are relaxing. Like I have said before already but I will say again. You can't force the door open especially when it's not on a hinge.

You have to become your own circumference so you can see the interference. Life is stranger for sure than fiction. You don't need the bait in order to lure. The fish was here to show us it is not the doer. Duality is not the door. Birds only fly through open windows but not if they are broken. You can't pay for your pay it is too heavy a token. The toll booth is a liar. The money system is broken. The diamond knows the life through pressure and the fire. That is part of why we close our eyes. So we can see. The third eye it opens knows it is not blind to be. The only work required is the one that changes the wiring. The one the folds the paradigm. The one that changes synapses firing. The one that knows no time and no space. The same thing can be said in a million and infinite ways. The hydra head it slays when you keep lopping off its head. The light comes in through the cave showing you the beast was already dead. This happens outside of the emergency.

There is only the willingness to be the best beautiful you. There is nothing truer than true. Elevator music was designed to put you back to sleep. You didn't want yourself to know you know there is nothing you can keep. The point will keep chipping no matter how many coats you wear. There is in the eye of the stillness the one who looks like a stare. In those eyes, there is no exit. Beggars begging for change never beget it. Critics criticizing the form will never see past it. The point of living in the world is not to be of it. The mirror throws back to its owner it's own reflection. The chess game is over. In that game, there is no direction.

The game of white and black never transmuted. The lessons of Venus which seem convoluted. Separated magnets will only attract again. It's only a matter of time that these poles reversals know it. As you know you are the center of the storm. You are the light in the dark. You aren't the Babylonia intrinsic value laconic market. That is a land mine to be stepped on by those who continue to bury it. It depends on the smile that reflects the smile. It takes as long as the awhile that you can ever wish it to. The thread is through the fabric that weaves from invisible hands and transcends what it believes. It wants what it doesn't want and doesn't want it can ever be pleased. The society only shows you every place in which you don't fit. Circles can never fit into squares no matter how hard you can hit. You cannot tame a lion no matter how hard you try. You cannot steal the gasoline from Prometheus when he gives you the fire. To stop the whip hand stop jumping through the hoops. The real problem really lays in the jumper being able to jump through you.

The vortex that you are you meet in direct contact. Karma is finished when you never sign the contract. We were already born innocent. The pages got written on with someone else's hand we will call the straw man. He even goes by another name called the lawman. He speaks in legal-ease a language for the in-doctrines. A mouthpiece for a state that doesn't exist. Past, present and future all co-exist. All points of time merge it just depends on if you or someone else is writing the timeline. If you write it in invisible ink then you dissolve invisible chains. Invisible walls can't exist when there aren't any invisible frames. Learn and Unlearn everything you think you know. There is no charity or program that is going to get you through. The eye of the needle is much too small for the rich. The thread goes through just fine if you can't scratch the itch in time. If all you create is war and destruction prepare to meet your fate.

Creation just requires presence you can never show up late. If this for you gets too repetitive then you understand the point. The sign only points to the way your connection can disjoint. Do decide whether you will go or you will stay. If you go know you will not be coming back. When you know the loss of everything it is easy to stay on the track. If you want to only own everything it will all end up owning you. Fast will turn to slow because it weighs you down. Arrogance can never lop off the head of truth that is profound. No amount of social conditioning. Endless praying and wishing. No one teaches this lesson. You learn it and earn it. It melts all the ice cubes. The drop merges into the sea. That is the nature of neutrality and sensitivity. Let the unnatural fall on their own sword. They will never steal your gift. What's truly yours comes back to you. It says uplift, uplift, uplift.

What's truly yours returns to you every moment, everyday. So my advice to you is the get while the getting is going. Don't postpone. Echoes of life's eternity. Don't delay.

If you can understand the essence of this message well now you know the way.

Day Eighteen: Journal of Infinite Testimony on You Can't See The Open From A Closed Casket

The dollar is going to tank this year because of hyperinflation. All of the people on these contracts are going to be pissed when they see what Voltaire has said: Fiat currency goes back to its intrinsic value Zero. This is the time of the balancing of the scales. Banks created money from thin air because that's where it comes from when it is fiat currency, Wall Street people messed around with it and made bad gambles then asked the government for bailout and the markets of everything completely skyrocketed because we are now an Import Country ; We don't create anything worth anything anymore besides weapons and war and now people are waking up to the realization that weapons and war are not ever going to bring this country peace. The dead will bury the dead, life is for the living. Love never devalues especially when it is given away for free; it creates more value the more it is freely given. The more it is given the more it is received. The more it is received the more it's value increases.

If we bring love into the equation of all economics, all connections, and everything then we no longer are beggars begging for change. We are that change. We are self-sovereign individuals who were born into the world we agreed to be born into. Our name was hijacked from us, our original face was hijacked, our true identity was replaced with a false one called social security which is not very secure these days. All of these things are meaningless in a world where you are told what to do with what is called your free will because if it were really that free there would be no question of it being given or being taken or being allowed or not being allowed.

Morality is false when it is taught to you from places of a condition. Morality is an inner knowing you were born with just like love. You know not to kill someone already. You know violence begets violence. You know the suffering of another because you know your own suffering. You make direct contact with your real morality. You know God already as you were born from The Universe known as God.

There is no split in the genders, in the colors of your authentic nature. These things are not learned, they are only remembered but if you are blind then you only have to open your eyes to see. You have always been free, will always be free. No one is watching you except yourself watching yourself. You keep yourself in the line to go to the butcher. You can opt out at any moment if it is not where you want to go. Where you don't want to go and where you want to go are the same place. It just depends on if you want to exist while you get there by already being there. Being here now will always be the key that opens all the doors because the doors are already open. Just choose which one to walk through or one will be chosen for you if you don't make up your mind.

The government is only you controlling your own mind and allowing the outside to comply with your wishes. You become nothing and you see everything. You try and be everything and you walk away with nothing. You can't please a person who doesn't want to be pleased. You can't heal a person who doesn't want to be healed. You can't trust a person who doesn't want to be trusted. You can't deceive a person who doesn't want to be deceived. You can't receive a person who doesn't want to be received.

Anyone can only receive the same that they have given. This is why unconditional love is the currency of the universe. Unconditional love is not dependent on anything. Giving and Receiving becomes the same moment in unconditional love. If it is the foundation then the house stands. If it is just cards it falls. The salt can be taken out of the dead sea with a desalination machine and everyone will come from the desert for miles to have a drink but only if they are thirsty. You can lead them to the water but not make them drink it. A glass of water is the truth. It is transparent. You can see right through it. The truth that is in the open is the last place anyone will look.

You can't see in the open from a closed casket. You can't see from one pointed focus from all the points of distraction. You can't see your original face if you never take off the mask. Your identity indefinitely will definitely always define you if you never let it go. It won't matter what I say if you try to stay it will always say go go go. There's also a reason why dog is god backward. A dog is obedient until it realizes it is its own master.

The slaves built all of the great civilizations for kings and queens to rule. Those same rulers of empires threw scraps of bones for slaves who were too hungry to drool. The poles only reverse when the gift is seen as a curse. If the gift is never given the nurse becomes a host. The needle becomes the arrow. The arrow becomes a sleeve. The heart is the only thing that matters unless it is stuck up inside of a tree. The disease won't be found if you look at only the leaves. You have to go to the root of the problem and hack it at the knees. If it can't walk it can't multiply. If it can't talk it can't indemnify. If it can't think it will never find a reason. If it relies only on nation it will be held for treason. If it only sees race it will never make it to the finish. If it only knows creed it's strength will diminish. Rome fell backward because it replaced a with e in amor.

That is how all empires fall still to this day. That is how they always will. A mouth and an ear are a two-way street. An argument is a waste of time it only shows how much you really don't know. If you know you don't know then you know. Monkeys throw shit at crowds who try and feed them bananas.
The fool is the only one who is really trustworthy because he is the only one laughing at the jokes.

He is the only one who knows how to jump off of a cliff and fly away.

Day Seventeen: Journal of Infinite Testimony on The Dead Bury The Dead Life Is For The Living

The dead bury the dead, life is for the living. This is not just a sentiment to believe in or a corporate slogan. This is not something that will be televised for everyone to see on the big flashy screen. The priest will not be showing up to give you the rites of passage into your own domain. Into the higher soul experiencing consciousness through the human being vehicle known as life.

The politician will not be showing up to give you your rights that were declared to you on the day you came into being in this world but not of it. He hasn't paid the full price of life yet. He is still using fiat currency which has the same intrinsic value it started with; zero. The reason you came into this being was to transcend all of the stories that try and tell you who you are. A story is not something someone can tell you about yourself. Even this one. Even this mirror.

You look and look and look into it but each time a difference face appears. Eventually, the mirror falls back onto itself and breaks away into a million tiny little pieces and no one can put them back together again because the mirror was broken to begin with; it just took time for you to see your origin. You will not be seeing your origin in the reflection so don't even bother looking with two eyes. There is only one.

Don't go the direction of Narcissus. He fell in love with his own reflection and then drowned. He was the son of the river god Cephissus and the nymph Liriope. He was so proud that he disdained those who loved him. Nemesis noticed this behavior and attracted Narcissus to a pool, where he saw his own reflection in the water and fell in love with it, not realizing it was merely an image. Unable to leave the beauty of his reflection, Narcissus drowned in it. Thus coining the term narcissism, a fixation with oneself and one's physical appearance. Eventually, this illusion must shatter and you must run as far away from the face you will never make direct contact with or you too will drown in it.

Upon running off in the one direction make sure you put both feet, one in front of the other so that you can make good time in the marathon that no one wins. Don't make the same mistake of the tortoise and the hare though because the truly swift is really slow. The history of this story is equal to building a three-story brick house in one day while it is snowing. Also; If you remember the arrows pointing to the point of this story please also throw your watch away. It is not impressed with you nor does it love that you watch the very thing it symbolizes unless your name is Kronos or Time. Now time is like an arrow shooting through the circle towards infinity. While the circle spins endlessly in the cycle of birth and death. The arrow keeps flying through the cosmos discovering discovery.

Also upon finishing this story please take one large can of gasoline, one match, and light this baby up until it sets you free. Please set this free. None of this was ever meant to be held onto so tightly. The tighter you hold the tighter it holds you. The more you can let it go, the more it can come back to you. After all, we all exist in the world of opposites until we see that all is one or all is none.

Nothing is still something it just depends on which side of the coin you want to see it from and if you even have a coin after you have given it to the boatman in the river Styx. That river you will only cross once in this lifetime unless you enjoy the pendulum swing or if you are like Orpheus and your instrument can sing melodies that make Hades weep.

If you can fold everything into that kind of divinity you will definitely never sleep and you will definitely see in the one eye past google plex but not blind.

Day Sixteen: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Never Coming Back.

Don't go the way I have. I am far too gone now to know where I am. Far out there in the reaches of the netherworld. Out where radio waves never touch. Out where there is no sound of any civilization. Out where no one knows. I let go so much I even let go of letting go. I have no identity to rest on. No name. No face. Just memories that can't ever be recreated. The more I remember what I thought I knew the more I don't really remember anything. I once held a deep regard and a deep contempt for this place. This earthly home.

I once knew what it was like to feel the pain of trying. I once knew the young love that strikes you from out of nowhere. The nebulae of comatose that it puts you in. The consistency and the constant reminder that there is meaning. That there is value. That there is worth in the other. Now I don't know what that is. I don't know where the word where points to or where the word there points to. It has all meshed into one entity. One energy and I know there's no turning back. This holograph has no skin. This reality doesn't feel like something we are in. I don't care about the wars. The truncheons. The scars of long forgotten moments.

My soul is weary and it's ready to go home. If you are out there, you can have it all. You can take it all. You can swallow this hollow. You can burn this empty void. You can take all its books, all its records, all its descriptions, all its conniptions, its fits and you can gently go across its throat and slit it. I don't want this wall or this mirror or this voice in my head telling me things are going to get clearer. I want to completely disappear. I don't want anyone to remember me. I don't want to tell any more stories. All of them have been the same. Flittering this way and that. I might be wrong with all of this.

This might be just another test and if it is then please show me the way. Show me that none of this is just in vain. Show me that in this dark that there is really a light. That it burns bright. That the rainbow is really taking over. That all the world's goodness is more that this hollow. That love really does exist. That it's not just an idea that I seem to resist. That the touch of the skin and the smell of the hair is more than just the way that I stare. Is more than just endlessly falling down. Is more than just these clever names that we give. That I can really end on a good note and finally live. That this third act of my life, I will see the standing ovation.

I would love to see something more than just a shadow of a shadow of a shadow.

Day Fifteen: Journal of Infinite Testimony on The Real Me; Both Sides.

I want to write a funny allegorical story that makes you believe I am some funny, lighthearted comedian with an intense flair for word imagery but tonight I would rather write the real story of the real me that I have so far known myself to be through my observation and my actions. I am not the greatest guy that I make myself out to be. I have had a lot of heartbreak and I have also done a lot of heart breaking from being heart broken. I spent most of my life denying that it all happened the way it did but it happened the way it did.

I was born thirty-two years ago into a strange land that I didn't understand. What I understood was the beauty and simplicity of the moment. I would watch birds fly up high in the air and I would fly with them. I would watch people smile and wave as they walked by the small fence that enclosed our yard while I got lost in my imagination. I wondered why no one else ever stopped to look at the world all around them.

I still feel this way. I see the intricate. I see the unseen and I appreciate it more than the guns, the politics, the wars, the crimes, the raping and other such ugly things across the world that I have seen and witnessed. I am like a little kid that has never grown up. I don't even know what will happen if we do all grow up and lose this capacity to wonderment and imagination. It seems to me we have surely lost our way. We have so many toys that all do the same thing but we all fight over them. We have all these shiny beautiful things that the earth provides and that we weave from the earth and we store them up in big buildings and put locks and keys for no one to reach unless you have seventy-five-page documents that say you can pass through seventy-five different doors with seventy-five different people guarding them. We have the capacity to love and feed and embrace every single person on this earth as we are visitors to this place and don't own this it but we put signs for lease, rent or own everywhere and if you can't afford the price you get to go and live out on the streets and beg to live or die trying.

I sit here trying to fit myself in a box with words, I try to sell you the idea of me so you can help me pay my bills so I can make a living. I keep perfecting myself every day but as I cover up all the dirt, I get so clean that no one sees me anymore. I clean myself so well I become invisible. My beauty comes from the pain and suffering of the world. It comes from every injustice that anyone has ever endured. My beauty comes with the price of never knowing if what I am doing is the right thing or if there is even a right thing that exists at all. My life comes from traumatic abuse. Being kicked around like a prisoner of war. Thrown down the stairs. Thrown through walls. Punished for wanting to be an artist instead of some commodity sitting behind a desk with one thing to look forward to at the end of life; a gold watch that says thank you so much for sitting in that desk and never leaving outside of the confines of your own mind, or heart or being. Watching the body slowly rot and fester with the pain of being a cog, spinning the wheel.

I hate to throw this all your way and even if you read this far you either might stop now because it doesn't tell you something that makes you feel good or sell you something you can tell all your friends about or show off to everyone that you acquired because you own everything but don't own yourself. Is that the price for life? That you get to buy the whole world but still never be able to move around in it without someone else's permission or someone else's law. Hell, I am going to go right into the nitty gritty of it. I had been digging into the bottomless hell anyways so what does it matter at this point.

Damned if you do, Damned if you don't. If you want a get rich quick scheme or you want some enlightening marketing tool that you can sell to your friends, then look elsewhere because all I have to offer is the raw life experiences that I have walked through. All I have to offer are bricks that have been thrown at me. All I have to offer is misery and the opposite feelings of those things too which have brought the same pain from either side. It's either that I have loved too much. I have fucked too much. I have dawdled away all my time, energy and resources too much or that I have been too lazy, too gripped by manic episodes and depression. Sleeping on people's couches.

Accepting everything I can. Doing the best with what I know. Letting go of what doesn't work only to find this beautiful circle. No matter how many books I have read, how many religions I have studied, how many sciences I have digested, how many philosophies I have believed in, how many self-help books that have helped me to help myself lose myself even more in them. There is no answer. There's no quick fix. There's no success in three minutes. The only one's who seem to profit off of those ideas are the one's who have created them. I have learned that the truth cannot be created nor destroyed. The truth is naked and it's swinging its hips to the rhythm of life. It's not when the lips move, much like my long winded story right now that started out to be the real me but then went on a diatribe on the world outside of myself but I have realized that I am the whole world. I am every single sunrise and sunset.

I am the guy at the bar who drank himself to death from loneliness. I am the woman who hung herself in the midtown Manhattan motel because no one would love her or even be kind to her. I am the guy who won the lottery but didn't understand money and spent it all in one years time. I am the little girl still waiting for her father to wake up from the long sleep. I am every mother and father. Every widow. Every homeless one starving on the streets while billionaires sit on their balconies shouting that they should have read Oprah's new article on how to be a multi-millionaire.

I am the frank one who says all the wrong and right things. I am the politically incorrect one who you can't stand but you will be friends with if it helps your image. I am Shiva. I am Lakshmi. I am that I am. I am my father's son. I am my father who left when I was 5 because he didn't want to be my father. I am my mother who got dealt a bad hand but did the best that she could. I am my stepfather who suffers so much from the pain and suffering he kept inflicting on others because he hurt so much inside but kept numbing it with alcohol, drugs and abuse. I am the little boy who wishes he was never born into this world. I am the one who does not know how to ask for help because I have helped so many but don't know how to help myself. I am the one who got fired because he didn't love what he does. I am the old married couple who lost the fire and the zest.

What do we really do here besides create so much complexity, adversity, peace, beauty and then destroy it. I am an ancient city upon ancient city buried under so much of the earth, at the bottom of the ocean, in the middle of lands we have never explored. I am all the money wasted on superficiality, condemnation, campaigns about nothing but bullshit. I am the one who keeps putting off change because to let go of the old investment would mean that I would have to admit defeat.
I am the one who cannot seem to get up anymore. I am the one who judges myself. I am the one practicing privatized corporate punishment. I am a civilization who keeps trudging on. Who keeps seeing the poison everywhere that it is creating but won't change until the bitter end. I know there is beauty in this world too. I know there are mountains, trees, flowers, bees, honey. I know there are beautiful people too. Fragile as glass.

I love this world too. Don't get me wrong. I have had so many beautiful moments. I have seen children be born. I have seen people come out of adversity and see everything new. I have seen triumph. I have heard the most beautiful music made by angels. I have made love for hours and hours and hours into the-most-ecstatic realms I could never explain with words.

I have had homeless people walk up to me and sit down and talk and they start crying so much and hug me because all they wanted was someone to listen to their story about what happened to them before things went wrong. I have watched people die in the park and I sat there with one of them and he said don't leave until they come and take me away. I have seen the light and glow inside the eyes of fire. I have watched the flame dance for hours. I have listened intensely to all the conversations ever come my way. I have made love to so many women who have walked into my life. I have eaten so many beautiful meals with them. Smoked so many cigarettes when I thought it was cool until it started to make me feel a bit crazy. I have been pure gratitude for all moments, every single one that I write about now. Every single one because if I never had these experiences I would never know anything. I have been a friend to so many, intimidating to others, awkward to some, selfish to others, fair weather to some, unable to show up for others.

Too many experiences to know. Too many people to meet. Too many things to have. Too many beliefs to believe in and too many to break. Too many habits. Too many excuses. Too many too many's. Too much is too much. I just want to be simple again. I want to feel real again.

I want to know what it's like to have everything and share it and for the first time see the beauty on both sides.

Day Fourteen: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Found On The Island and The Torch Is Passed After The Sea, Lost and Found.

The man hands over the torch to me and tells me that it is my turn to walk into the darkness. The captain and I trade glances for a moment and he gives me a subtle little nod to keep going. After all, we endured such a strenuous journey across the sea of treachery and when we thought that it was all over we crashed landed right onto an island. The captain gets back on the ship, sets the sails and continues on.

The man disappears into the night and I notice that even without a torch he still has a light on. After they leave me with a torch in hand I walk on without a second thought. The sand becomes more and more secure as I walk away from the water, the beach, the captain, the torch bearer. I approach a big staircase with a giant wall on all sides. I wonder for a moment if I should try and walk around the wall or walk up the stairs to see where they go.

I decide to walk up the stairs. I reflect on many times in my life trying to go around what seems like an obstacle in my mind. Why not do the obvious thing this time. I feel in my gut that this is the right thing to do. I tell you everything even though it probably doesn't matter to you whether or not you hear it. It probably doesn't matter what you think about it. You still say nothing back. It's already been said. I take each step slowly and securely. I walk all night without stopping. Up and up and up many, many stairs. Nothing but the same slabs of wall all around me as I walk on forever into the night.

I get to the top and it is pointed. Much like the top of a pyramid. The steps get smaller and smaller until I am finally at the tip of the point. There is light all around me. It's not just one colored light. It's not just yellow, orange, green, blue nor white. It is then that I realize this is the top of the point. This is where it is quieter than quiet. Where it's more serene than serenity. Where all things become more focused than focus.

This is where everyone wants to be. This is where everyone is. One pointed focus. One channel. One place. One space. Seemingly multi-dimensional. Seemingly complicated. Seemingly confusing. Seemingly. That is the thing about the illusion. It's an illusion in and of itself. I know that this is not the end. This is not the only space to exist in. This is not the only place to exist in. There's more to this than clouds, weather patterns, changes, re-arranges, re-writes, characterizations, religions, creeds, nations, treaties.

This is the now. This moment, this moment, this moment and this moment and this moment and this moment and this one. This one. This. All of them endlessly moving. Endlessly churning. Endlessly learning. Endlessly this. I then turn to light and then slowly disappear into the vast infinite night.

Losing all forms. Losing all states.

Evaporating endlessly. Endlessly me. Endlessly free.

Day Thirteen: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Dreams of Dreaming Dreams.

I am starlight from all the galaxies. All the stars. All quasars, quarks and names. I am slowly burning out across the void. Slow fire. I am transformed into a holographic classroom of the future.

Everything is crystal nanotechnology. Everyone sits in the air in the lotus position. There are no such things as desks, chairs, stairs or surfaces. Everything floats. Everything is open space and cylindrical for starters. Then everything is imagination projection. Everything is shapeshifted. Everything is infinite multi-dimensionality. Everything arrives and departs at the same time but actually never left and never went anywhere. It just gave you the illusion that it did. It just sends itself a copy of itself to do whatever holographic work that it feels that it needs to do in whatever time period it feels that it needs to do it in. It can copy itself infinitely. It knows that it exists anywhere, somewhere, everywhere and nowhere. I am told that I don't take it seriously nor do I know how to have fun with it. I neither do anything nor do I do everything at the same time. I am told that this goes against the laws that I have agreed to when I had become more than just an idea of myself.

This still leaves me wondering; who did I agree with before I incarnated here. A question that seems to be left unanswered. So here I sit on a planet called Earth. With it's silly people and it's silly rules and all of it's people fighting for and against everything. Here I am in the middle of it all still wondering the same questions.

Who brought me here?

Day Twelve: Journal of Infinite Testimony on How When You Die In Your Dreams You Really Don't Die In Real Life

The gunman flies down a lone dirt road through a tropical forest that I don't know. We travel at thralldom's of speed which if you didn't know is faster than anything conceivable. We are beyond weightless-ness, timelessness and spacelessness but this is still some heavy shit happening.

There's a baby sitting in the passenger seat screaming it's lungs out. To the right of me, in the backseat is a man bound and gagged. I am just sitting here watching it happen. I can see a part of the face of the man driving in the rear view mirror. I also see his mouth frothing like a rabid wolfhound.

The adrenaline, the speed and the intensity are a catalyst for this moment. We cross a bridge into a small abandoned town. Not one person is around. It's like that typical western scene with dust blowing everywhere. Tumbleweeds and all. The silence of ghosts past all searching for fools gold.

We pull off into a small road on the side between two old buildings all boarded up. He puts the car in park then takes a moment to gather his composure. After doing so, he goes into a manic frantic temper tantrum. He picks up the baby in one hand and points the gun at it with the other. He then looks at me and asks me if it should live. I say of course it should.

What did it ever do to you? He becomes infuriated and instead points the gun at me. Breathes in deeply and fires the trigger. I see the slow motion. The bullet leaving the gun. Slowing down. Every millisecond revealing itself. I see the blue matrix inside the center of my head. I see consciousness. I see unlimited potentiality. I see infinite space. I hear the last echo. I feel myself leaving. I know none of this is me. It's just an image of myself. It's an expression of the infinite.

I say goodbye, farewell and wake up born a new.

Day Eleven: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Pavlov's Dog Bites The Hand That Feeds

The dog sits and waits patiently for the master to return. The master brings a bag of food for which he will feast upon. The food is poured into the bowl as the bell is rung. The moment after it rings he starts chomping bit by bit into the hard-grained dog food. He takes a drink of water. Eats some more. He drinks water then walks over to a blanket on the floor. He turns in three circles and collapses onto the blanket. Lets out a big sigh. Closes his eyes and then falls asleep.

The master turns the lights out and goes outside onto the porch to smoke a cigarette. He loses himself in deep thought. His thoughts concern the ringing of the bell and the reward of food to the dog. He knows that every time he rings the bell; the dog will know it is about to eat. The moment after it is rung he puts the food into the dish and the dog eats. Drinks water from the bowl. Walks over to the blanket. Turns in three circles and then collapses onto the blanket. Lets out a big sigh. Closes his eyes and then falls asleep. He only gets up to eat and then goes back to sleep.

The master turns the light off and leaves to get more groceries at the local grocery store. He lights up a cigarette while he walks. The wind blows. He gets lost in thought about the bell ringing and the dog eating and how he turns off the light and smokes a cigarette then walks to the grocery store. On the way to the grocery store, a bell rings from a nearby streetcar. This causes him to become hungry. He rolls a cigarette and smokes it. Luckily he also has an apple in his pocket and he starts to munch on it. This cures his appetite.

He goes into the store and looks through all of the aisles at the wonderful food. He has a certain amount of money which leaves him to many possibilities of buying whatever it is that he would like to. He remembers to buy plenty of vegetables and fruits because they are good for his stomach and digestion. He also buys a bag of tobacco to roll up cigarettes. He walks out of the door of the grocery store and a bell rings. He stops and rolls a cigarette and smokes it while walking.

He arrives at home puts the groceries away. The phone rings. He rolls a cigarette. The dog is hungry. The bell is rung. The dog attacks the master and bites his hand almost all of the ways off. The man grabs a shotgun out of a filing cabinet and shoots the dog. He picks up his hand and slowly stitches it back together. The front door rings. He rolls a cigarette. Takes a pencil and writes on the wall the number 7.

The doorbell rings again. He lights up the cigarette and answers the door.

Day Ten: Journal of Infinite Testimony on The Sea, Lost, Found

You get on the ship to go out into the sea. The ship is at the dock and you're getting on with all the others. Everyone is dressed as if they are going to get wet. It's cold. The air that you breathe is so crisp and nice as it goes through your nostrils into the lungs and then you exhale and you can see your breath take off and fly away and disappear into thin air. Everyone is going out into the sea to look for something you are not sure even exists but you know that this is where you want to go. This is what you want to do. The captain asks if everyone is aboard and you're packed to the brim on this little ship. So many mixed feelings you have about going out into the middle of nowhere with all of these people around you and no chance of escape once you get out there. No one knows anyone on this ship. You look around you and there are all these faces you have never seen before. All these feelings arise even more of helplessness. The ship sets its course and heads out of the mainland. You look at the land and watch it slowly disappear behind you.

The more you move outside of the familiar terrain the more terror you start to feel inside of you. Who are all of these people around me? Why did I get on this ship? What exactly am I looking for? Are all of these people on this ship with me looking for the same thing? We move further and further out to sea. There's nothing out here. Open sky and a vast flat landscape of blue ocean on all sides. The people start to gather in small groups and discuss things like politics, religious beliefs, scientific discoveries, tragedies, triumphs, climbing mountains and then falling down them. They ask silly questions about the existence of non-existence and why does rain feel wet and other such nonsensical ideas about ideas.

This is the usual conversations in my dreams. In my dreams on the open sea on this ship with all of these people they show me newspaper headlines of buildings collapsing, people screaming, obituaries. The people start talking louder and louder and louder. So loud that eventually no one hears anyone. So loud that you can't even call it loud anymore because it becomes one giant frequency of sound. The captain points off into the distance and I look and see a storm brewing. Lightning. Big waves. Pouring rain. We all start panicking seeing all of this right ahead of us. What do we do? There is nowhere to go. There is nothing to do.

The ship starts getting tossed around by the big hungry sea. We all start huddling together. Waves crash onto the boat. We start slipping. The rain pours harder and harder. It tears us down. The sky turns grey and gray and grey. The waves start to overpower us. They start crashing onto the floorboards of the ship. The captain becomes mad with some odd delight in this maneuvering the collapsing sea. He smokes a pipe as he becomes more un-satiated.

More he screams. More! MORE!!! His eyes turn red. People are screaming. They all try to run but there is nowhere to go. Everyone is piled up on everyone. The waves are pounding people off of the ship. People jump ship. Woman and children scream for each other. They hold each other. Man jumps overboard. Another woman overboard. Another man. No one is talking anymore. No one has anything to say. Its happening. They know it's happening now. Everything they ever talked about. Everything they ever wished for. Every aspect of an aspect of an aspect. Every devilish grin. Every invitation for disaster. Every thought about the end of everything. Every creative thought and feeling about the destruction of creation.

The sea is taking its victims. It swallows them whole without a second thought. It doesn't have time to think. This is nature. This is natural. I stand there in the center of the ship and watch this all happen. The ship is getting tossed around. Everyone gets thrown overboard over a period of time. The rain slowly stops. The waves slowly disappear and its just the captain and I now. The infinite sea all around us and we are all alone. The sea swallowed everyone. We drift on as the sun slowly sets over the horizon. The captain comes down from the ships helm. We talk for awhile while he smokes a pipe. We go down into the ships belly and make some food.

Everything is now calm and clear. We hear a loud crash and head back outside for a moment. We crash into an island.

There is a man standing in the distance with a light in his hand.

Day Nine: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Seeds, Sprouts, Trees, Moneys

A seed falls from the sky into the fresh soil that has toiled. It sits there as the sun gives it sunshine. The clouds come in and it starts to rain. Pools of water start to collect in the soil and the seed starts drowning in it. The seed starts falling under the soil as the water penetrates it and opens it up. As the water crashes onto the soil it covers the seed. The seed is buried inside of the soil. It stops raining. The night comes. The seed sits under the soil and rests with the moon. The wind blows. The sun comes up over the horizon and gives its light. The seed feels its warmth under the blanket of the soil.

Then suddenly the seed starts to open little by little as a sprout slowly pushes its way out of the hard shell. The soft sprout keeps pushing as the seed gives birth to something new. Something it never knew it had inside of itself. The sprout pushes harder and harder. The clouds come in and rain on the soil and give it water. The sprout drinks. The moon comes. The winds blow. The morning comes again. The sun warms the blanket of soil. The sprout pushes out again. The seeds shell breaks. The soil moves. The clouds come in and it rains soaking the sprout. The sprout drinks and grows bigger. The sun shines and warms the soil. The sprout pushes itself out of the soil so it can see the sun. The moon comes out. It sits silently. The wind blows. The sun comes up and warms the sprout that is starting to grow into a plant. Limbs start appearing. Green tender limbs.

The clouds come and it rains. The plant drinks. The plant turns greener and greener. The moon comes out. The wind blows. The plant grow more and more. The sun comes up and warms the plant. The clouds come in and it rains. The rain falls to the ground and collects in puddles. The plant drinks the water. The winds blow. The moon comes up. The plant grows into a small tree. The small tree sits silently. The sun comes up and warms the tree. The tree grows bigger. Leaves appear. People come in and clear out other trees next to it. The sun comes. The clouds come and it rains. The tree drinks. The moon comes. The tree stands in silence. The winds blow. The sun comes up. Homes are built. Grass is grown. Driveways are poured. Mail is delivered. The lawn is mowed. The tree has grown much bigger. The sun has given it warmth. The rain has given it a drink each day. The moon has shown it silence. The winds have blown to give it air. The sun comes up again.

The people eat breakfast as the sun comes up and gives it warmth. The tree grows more. The sun shines as the kids run around on the grass in the yard. The leaves fall. The kids go inside and are tired. The moon comes up. The tree silently blows in the wind. The home turns into many houses. The people grow into many people and families. The mailman delivers so much mail now that is from the trees. The tree grows. The rain falls. The wind blows violently. The leaves fall. The people make a city. Everyone is bustling here and there and everywhere. Everything is cement. The tree is alone. People walk by. People drive by. The mailmen are delivering bucket loads of mail that have come from the trees. The moon comes out. The tree grows bigger and bigger and bigger. The city grows bigger and bigger and bigger. The people need more and more and more and more.

The cars drive and drive and drive. The buildings grow so big that the sunshine doesn't shine in as much anymore. The leaves fall. People fall in love. People work. People drink coffee. Trains go back and forth on the tracks. Neighborhoods burn down. Neighborhoods are built. Everyone is busy. Time flies by. The sun comes up. The buildings block the sun. It rains. The trash falls down in rivers. The people make the city bigger. Computers take over everything. People don't think anymore.

No one knows what to do with anything anymore. People consume. People die. The trees die. They take the tree and make money out of it. People lose connection with nature. City officials fill in the hole where the tree was with cement. The one dollar bill turns into a million dollar bills and then into a trillion dollar bills and then into a gazillion dollar bills.

No one thanks the tree. The tree that plays so much of a role in the lives of everyone in this world.

Day Eight: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Going Up Up Up and Going Down Down Down

You move from one location to another location, to another location, to another location. You walk here to there from there to here and back to there again. Your up, your down, you're all around. One minute lost in the air and the next crashing to the ground. You fly towards the sun, you fall back down to the earth, you fly to the moon, you fall back down to the earth again. You jump into the ocean. You swim onto the beach. You jump into the ocean again. You swim to the bottom. Gasping for air. Holding it all in to see what is down there at the bottom. You swim back up to the surface again.

You sit still in a room and everything is moving. You move all over the place and everything seems like it has never moved. You look out one window in one city. You look out another window in another city. You meet this person. You meet that person. That person meets a person who knows the other person you just met and that person knows a person you have always known. That known person knows another person who knows another person who is a doctor. That doctor knows a nurse. That nurse knows a millionaire. That millionaire knows a security guard who knows someone who works in a coffee shop who sells coffee to someone who plays guitar in a band who used to play music with someone else that you used to know. This thought leads to this emotion as this emotion leads to this action. This action leads to this opportunity. This opportunity leads to this place as this place leads you to this person who present another opportunity that leads you to another opportunity. That leads you to another place that leads you to another person that leads you to another place that leads you to another opportunity.

You jump back into the ocean and swim to the bottom. You see a light. You grab onto it. It brings you through a cave. The cave shows you an ancient city. The ancient city still has people there. They never left. It is the old civilization. It is Atlantis. No one knows your name but they remember your face. You remember their faces. It is a beautiful place. They bring you under the ground of the bottom of the ocean and there is yet another civilization, more ancient than the one that you have just met. They teach you about all of the times you have incarnated down here and have gone to the surface only to come right back to the origins again. They teach you all points of time, no points of time, folding space and time together. Implosions. Explosions. No-plosions.

There are a few still who have incarnated who want to know the truth about everything. How everything is interlinked even the most absurd things are interlinked. The future is the past, the past is the present the present is the future and the past and the present. The one consciousness that you are cannot be created nor destroyed. The story never ends, never began and is now happening.

Below the Atlantic and below the Pacific's is yet another civilization. They don't speak. They have no use for tongues but under there you can hear the loudest silence ever known to any man.

Day Seven: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Narrowing It All Down To Be With You

I have been you and you have been me. Me has been someone else as someone else has been another that I never knew. Someone arrived. Someone left. Someone stayed in the same place. Anyone I knew before I no longer know and I no longer know anyone I will know because it hasn't happened yet. Anything that hasn't happened yet might not happen because I do not know what is going to happen until it is happening. While it is happening, it has already happened the moment I have written down that it is happening. This makes it possible that I have already died. I am dying and I have also yet to die. I have died as everyone over forty-two billion years. I am dying now as we all die. Both you and I. I and you. You that you know yourself to be. You that you think yourself to be. You that you will never be. You that you already were. You that had been here, there, everywhere and nowhere. I that I had been, I that I am, I that I will be and I that I never was, will never be, could never be, should never be, would never be, was. I was Joan or Arc burned at the stake. I was Hitler taking over a whole race.

I was Zeus. I was Charis. I was Elizabeth Bathory. I was Vlad the Impaler. I was Nosferatu. I was the beginning of time. I was time itself. I am no time. I am no mind. I am all that was, is and will be. I was the camera. I was the file. I was the cabinet. The government. I was the psychic. The psychiatrist. The communist. Socialist. I was the banner. The planner. The image. I was you and you were me. I was the lens. The film. The trace. The copy. Disgrace. I was atheism. Hinduism. Magic. Tragic. I was every father, mother, child, sister, brother. I was the sun. The moon. I am pure awareness. Pure consciousness. Pure Love. Pure devotion. Pure evolution. I am one with all and all is one. This is what it is. I am not any of anything anymore that you think I am only I have the eyes to see me. You are the thing that you think I am. I am the thing I think you are.

I am done TRYING to do things. Trying to make things happen. I am the thing I was looking for. I had left but now I have been found. I can tell you anything that is not and everything that is but it won't make a difference. The stick has been removed from my eye. The burn has been healed. This is an example of a paragraph that depicts many ideas of things that were, things that are, things that may be. Possibly. I am the center of the wheel that doesn't move while it spins around and around. I am the ship that sails around the world looking for something that never will be found. I am the conversation that goes in one ear and out the other. I am the father that is also a mother, a son, a lover, a brother, a grandfather. I am forty-two billion years old and I am ageless. I am the clock that has stopped ticking. I am my own contradiction. I am my own best friend. I am my own sadness. I am the joy. I am love. I am everything under the sun. I am you.

I move when I never do. I see what I never saw. I taste what I never ate. I digest you. You digest me. I am a sand grain in a deserted sea. I am the depth of the ocean. I am everything undiscovered. I am everything uncovered. I am every lover. I am a tear. I am laughter. I am a scream. I am a dream. I deal with you. I steal with you. I feel you. I thought of you. I spoke of you. I called you. If I call, please answer. If I knock please answer the door. If I give you enough know that there is always more. If I confuse you then know that there's more to make sense. If you thirst then it will be quenched with more thirst. If you hunger then know that you will be fed with more hunger. If you think yourself to be then know there will be more to be.

It was already decided. Everyone has ideas. No one has any idea.

Day Six: Journal of Infinite Testimony on Dreams of Other Worlds At War

In dreams in sleep things happen that go beyond the wildest of imaginations, the wildest of conceptions, the wildest of sweet anythings. This wild imagining took place in Baghdad. I have no clue how I got there or what purpose it was for me to be there. There were children running all over the grass and the palm trees were swaying in the winds. Old women were coming back from the market with bags in each of their hands. Some men were working on their cars in driveways. Others were watering the lawn, getting the mail. It was a calm peaceful, serene day.

I was walking down the street and bumped into Roxanne on the street. We both were very surprised to see each other. I had walked from one direction and she had walked from the opposite and somehow in the middle of the intersection on this fateful day, we had walked to the same exact spot.
This was very interesting because in my living life Roxanne lives in Brooklyn off of Atlantic Avenue where there is a whole different kind of life going on. Where there are gypsy cabs always hailing you for rides over the Manhattan Bridge. Rasta guys selling weed and incense but always incense first. The train at this area is a hybrid of so many stops all coming together only to take back off again in different directions. It's a bleak neighborhood. So here she is. All dressed up in a yellowish white gown, pearls in her hair, diamonds in her eyes. We walk for a little while catching up as if it has been a millennial since the last time we have seen each other. It was like a whole lifetime had passed and we had a lot of catching up to do. It was a very beautiful dream.

The sun was slowly setting. The night time breeze was breathing its air. Then from out of nowhere. Missiles starting to land all around us. Demolishing little kids. Everyone started to panic. Everyone starting running in a million different direction. Kids were hiding behind stone walls. People were running in and out of their homes. Cars were parking and taking off into all kinds of directions. We started running together to find a shelter. Kids were peeling up the grass and hiding underneath it. It started to get kind of crazy the dream. Things that don't normally happen in real life started to happen.

Tanks started flying off the ground. Gravity started going in the other direction. It started to lift everything up towards the sky. We found an underground bunker and went and hid inside. There were other people in here. We made new friends and waited it out. There was a small window in the top of it and I could see out. I watched gravity start to lift everything up. Missiles. Tanks. Guns. Military people. It only lifted the things that were causing the war. It lifted them so high into the sky that there was nothing left other than what had already been there before it happened. Then at some moment, there was a bunch of lights in the sky and everything blew up.

Roxanne and I held each other in the bunker and waited for a moment when we could go back outside. I woke back up on the living room floor in San Francisco. It was interesting to have been in one place somewhere else and then wake up into another place all in a few moments time.
This leads me to wonder if dreams are real and if we experience multi-dimensional experiences at the same exact time. Do I have other me's that live according to what those wishes are to those other parts of my psyche and self and after they have their experiences both past, present and future? Do they return otherworldly information to me that benefits my growth and acceleration in the current present awakened life I have chosen to live?

These experiences bring up a lot of questions about reality, dreams, other times and places and experiences. Are there many other parts of me functioning to serve other purposes? These lucid dreams have been happening to me ever since I was a child. Sometimes, I write them down and other times I just ignore them and don't care about what they are about or where they have taken place. Other times I wonder if it is just my brain taking all of the different information that I have read, experienced, conversations about different topics with different people piecing all of them together to make a story that I can follow in dreams so I have a story to tell in an awakened state.

It seems my city will not be ravaged anymore in either state. This city has been unearthed.

Day Five: Journal Of Infinite Testimony on Pounding Headaches That Leave You Feeling Like Smashing A Hammer Into Your Cerebral Cortex

Drip, drip, drip goes my serotonin into the extraneuronal space. It leaks like a water faucet. I can hear it. The pattern it makes. The empty sound all around. It's like Chinese water torture. I am being tortured by the second. Drip after drip after drip and there's nothing I can do about it. My iris swells. My eyes are killing me. My brain feels like a massive lump of dead weight inside my head and I want nothing more than to smash it as hard as possible into the ground or with a hammer. This is what it is like to be intelligent, so intelligent that your brain is constantly thinking, constantly firing off synapses.

A constant lightning storm. Floods of thoughts. Tsunami of dreams. Memory after memory after memory of this life I have lived so far. Of other lives, I have lived before this one. Germany. Beirut. Italy. France. Man. Woman. Heir to the throne of ancient queens. A peasant in the street. Mobster losing bets. The Little boy in the holocaust. Rocks. Nazi's. Boats. Colorful dreams. Mountains. Rainforest's. Gunfire in the Vietnam war. People running screaming. Airplanes crashing. Buildings blowing up. Submarines at the bottom of the ocean. The airliner's sinking to the bottom of the ocean. 100 ad. 200 BC. 3010. Tokyo sunrises. Buildings that make no sense architecturally. The subway. The airway. The highway. The low way. No way out of here. No exit. No entrance.

Conception. Millions of sperm swimming. Fucked in the back of a 57' Chevy. Fucked on the side of the highway with a blown tire. Sleeping in nightmares. Buried alive. The color blue. The color red. World disasters all over. Scripts. Prophecies. Duality. Alice in wonderland. Malice through the looking glass. Brothers. Sisters. Mothers. Cousins. Grandfathers. Grandmothers. Great Grandparents. Great Great Great Grandparents. Cavemen. Lotus flowers. Mud. Buddha. Krishna. Christ. Famine. Sickness. Disease. Pearl Harbor. Wet diapers. Babies running around the streets without anyone. Seven years old. Eight years old. Nine years old.

3.14159265358979323846264338327950288. Golden spirals. Lemniscate. Magician. High Priestess. The Devil. Death. Life. Water. Air. An atom. A capillary. The sun. The moon. The ocean. A river. Meditation. Lamentation. Fear. Love. Heart. Brain. Homunculus. Ridiculous. A sentence. A word. A paragraph. A book. A novel. Fiction. Truth. Lies. Movies. Real life. Stories. Bank accounts. Money. Poverty. So many things. Not enough things. Health. Doctors. Nurses. Hospitals. Clinics. A penis. A vagina. Eyelids. Open. Closed. Out of business. The news. The weather. Belief. Religion. Faith. Hope. Authenticity. Fake. Blasphemy. Unknown. Paradoxical. Intrinsic. Part. Whole. Broken. Tossed to the side of the road. Abandoned. Left for dead. Lack of anything else to say. Too much talking. Too much silence. Space. Matter. Star systems. Movement. Rest.

Vampires. Wolves. Gold diggers. Harlots. Concubines. Whores. Drag queens. Brooklyn. Manhattan. Queens. Bushwick. Williamsburgh. Alphabet City. All of the women, I have ever been with. All of the women, I will never be with. All of the people who know me. All of the people who don't know me. All of the people who think they know me. All of the people who see me and stare. All of the people who don't give a care. All of the people that matter. All of the people that mind. Friend. Acquaintance. Stranger. Pharaoh. Capitalism. Socialism. Ism. Ain't. Is not. Will never be. Could have been. Should have been. Would have been. Past. Present. Future. Descript. Nondescriptor.

The alphabet. The numbers. Winners. Losers. Black. White. Strong. Might. Dark. Light. This way. That way. Anyway. No way. Etcetera. Etcetera. Never ending. Ending one day. Forever. Never say never. This can keep going on and on and on and on and on. This is what it is like when your whole life flashes in front of your eyes and other lives you have lived also flash before your eyes and words. Things. Places. Locations. Everything. You wonder why I have a headache. Aspirin. Tylenol. Advil. Chicken. Turkey. Pheasant. Duck. Rice. Cous Cous. Indian. Moroccan. Muslim. Allah. Steeples. Churches. Mosques.

Creation. Destruction. Structure. Discipline. Alaska. Antarctica. Egypt. NYC. Los Angeles. San Francisco. The holy trinity. Shiva. Brahma. Vishnu. Kali Ma. Sai baba. Lakshmi. Goddess. Things I left out. Things I forgot. Things I remember. Things I don't know yet. Things I think I know. Things I will never know. Purity.

Day Four: Journal Of Infinite Testimony on Boxes that Box you In, Working Outside the Box and The Disappearing Box Trick

When it is sunny you would say it is not raining. When it rains sometimes it is sunny. When it is not sunny at all and it is raining; it is raining and not sunny.

Now most people in the the first, second and third dimension would utilize this information and we would be correct to say that these are great illustrations of obvious observations. Obvious observation. So obvious that they are overlooked. When it is sunny, it is sunny. That is what other people would say. They wouldn't worry about the fact that it is not raining. If it is not raining, well then it is safe to say that it is not raining. When it is not sunny and it is raining then you know that you will need to bring an umbrella if you are going to go outside, otherwise you may get wet and it'll be some time before you will be dry due to the fact that the sun is not out.

The most paradoxical thought in the world happens when it is neither raining nor sunny. When and where does this happen? This happens in the fourth dimension where all things are possible. Anything is possible in the fourth dimension because as obvious observation has stated before, it is obviously observed. I have spent much time in the land of the fourth dimension if you would call it that and have watched weather patterns that make absolutely no sense and landscapes and terrain you would never be able to understand.

Have you ever seen a shag carpet lawn? or a lawn made of broken glass. Lawnmowers that fly and mow the clouds in the sky? The weather man doesn't even report the weather anymore. It's more of an argument channel where three different people tell you what the weather is going to be like that day and through a series of debates and judicial legislatement the weather is finalized for point five tenth of a second. That is why the weather is never accurate and will never be. The argument can continue on forever and it does.

That is why in this land you will notice the sun, the clouds, the moon is constantly moving in and out at the same exact moment. There are no zoos, parking garages, or any type of enclosed spaces because the animals can run very fast, can fly very high, the cars turn into atoms every time you get out and all you need is a pair of tweezers to pull an atom out and turn it back into a car. Enclosed spaces are useless because the moment you have a wall up, it falls back down and then when it falls back down it turns into a floor.

Our walls are what we cannot see; invisible walls. You can see right through them. But they are there for the protection of outside forces.

In this world, everyone knows that everything is absurd and ridiculous all around you so it reminds you of this every single day. It shows you that it is so ridiculous by showing you these hilarious scenes. Wherever you go.

You walk through the park and you watch mimes scream only you can actually hear it this time. It sounds much like the way your stomach screams when it is hungry but slowed down in a time signature that can only be heard for less than a second.

The trees dance to the music that is played by the people who play lots of different types of music, sometimes they dance so much that the leaves turn into money and everyone is a winner.

In this world there is no beginning, no ending, no sadness, no drama, it is all nothing because you realize that all of it is a charade. Method actors all playing a part. Some of them are more convincing than others. In this world, there is no such thing as anything that is ever finished.

So for this world, you will have to figure out the rest of the story on your own. This is not the ending of the story. There are just invisible words after this sentence.

Day Three: Journal Of Infinite Testimony on Subjects That Subject You To Rethink Your Analysis

Where I am from everyone lives backwards. The ass is in the front and the other genital parts are in the back. This makes making love a very interesting thing to do. Two people must enter from the rear entrance in a very forward like manner. This is enabled by passive aggressively playing a game of battleship; first, to prove who is who. Then, to prove what is what. Then, to prove where is where. Then, to prove why is why. Then, to prove how is how. Then, the captain of the ship is somehow resurrected and if the ship comes back up from sinking and you bring everyone back to life, you are the winner.

Afterwards, you collect a small specimen of semen and vaginal fluids from tubes and deliver them back to both of the organs and then put the tubes back into their packages. Once delivered to the organs a heightened feeling of ecstasy slowly works its way into a slow breath and a slow breath into a soft purr. You work down to a point where you finally open your eyes, unhitch organs, touch skin, kiss slowly, roll around a few times and then end up putting your clothes back on again. You kiss a little bit more. You extract a drink from your mouth back into a glass and end up pouring it back into a bottle that is labelled Merlot. You talk about all kinds of nonsense. You both walk out of the bedroom of where you had just extracted the whole situation as if you had discovered something you may have left behind. After that, you walk out of the house, into a car and drive to a store that sells wine. You bring the bottle back and the man at the counter pays you to put it back onto the shelf. You then get back into the car.

Then you walk backwards from your arrival at home to where you extract a very fine dinner. You put each morsel back onto the plate, then back into the oven and then back into the boxes which they came from. Then you push your chair in. You take the groceries out of the fridge and cabinets and return them back into bags. You open the garage only to find a car hidden inside. You walk into the car and the door slams open for you. You look into the front windshield and back out of the garage; it closes itself. Then you both say hello to each other as if you had just met for the last time.

You drive. Everyone drives backwards. They hit the brakes to go and the accelerator to stop. The traffic cop is always blowing his whistle telling you-you should have entered before you left but he's just as backwards as forwards can be. You drive to the grocery store where you get paid to return everything back onto the shelves of the store. You walk back out of the store empty-handed. You slam your door open and get back into the car and drive backwards out of the parking lot.

You arrive back to work. You finally leave work only to find that your boss has so many finished things for you not to do. You turn your computer on and erase all of the words from the word documents and excel spreadsheets. You un-shred all of your documents. and place them back into folders which then get placed back into filing cabinets. You put coffee back into your coffee cup from your mouth and let it drip back into a machine that fills itself back up. The coffee then gets really hot and turns back to water.

You walk back into the cafeteria where the trash hands you your lunch back into its containers. You then sit back down and put the food back from your mouth back onto the plate and then return it to the kitchen where people put it back into very hot containers that have steam going back to water.

Cups of coffee fall out of your mouth and back into the cup. You extract 2 lumps of sugar, half & half and you return them back to the place they are always sitting in before you had arrived to fill them up. Then you talk about how it is going to be when you get back to the place that you started from and how you will return from that vacation that you have already gone on in some northern part of the country where snow always rises back into the clouds and then the clouds somehow disappear back into the sky and everything turns blue.

Then you sit back down into your cubicle and the computer shows you how to put all of the email messages back to where they immediately disappear without a trace. You then sit for awhile sending messages back to their start and look at pictures of people that you once knew. You get up to go to the bathroom. You walk into the bathroom and extract a wet paper towel from the trash and dry it with your hands, then you put water back into the spout.

You walk over to the urinal and piss ends up going back into your organ and you finally feel full again. You walk back to your cubicle. Your computer turns itself off. Your coat falls back onto your back. Your boss waves for you to leave and you walk down a long hallway and everyone is going back to their cars where the doors open up and you get back inside. A cigarette falls up from the ground and ashes itself back to life, then a very large flame from a very large lighter goes back inside and falls back into the glove compartment.

The radio turns itself on as the key turns the car on itself. Everyone drives out of the driveway and everyone arrives at destinations where they walk back inside of their houses. Their wives kiss them goodbye and they sit together extracting coffee from their mouths as well as scrambled eggs, buttered toast and apples. Then the milk is filled back up. The eggs end up back in the shells. The refrigerator becomes full again. The wives end up walking back up the stairs, the husbands end up putting the shower water back into the spout, along with filling up bottles of shampoo, lathering soap back into the bar. Toothpaste ends up falling back into their mouths, the toothbrush ends up back in the holder and the toothpaste is put back into the tube.

The husband walks back into the bedroom where the wife is covering her naked body back in the bed. The husband takes off his robe and dismounts back into the bed. They both say Good Morning and they go back to looking terrible again.

They close their eyes and roll around for many hours while the Moon comes up and the Sun goes down. Every sense becomes nonsense. Nonsense making sense.

Day Two: Journal Of Infinite Testimony on Nothing and Other Ramblings

If you make a really long introduction people may or may not read it or even into it. Maybe. Yeah, that's good. That sounds really intelligent. Even the title of this story I have yet to make up. Read the title again. It sounds like it was written by someone who likes long titles. Don't worry though. It's not me that wrote it. It's someone else. Someone else very far away from another planet. The planet has no name, no face and no one lives there. How do I know you ask? I was the only one there. Many have tried to land there before me but have never made it. It's a very long deep space travel to get there and there is always the possibility of getting lost along the way.

It's a treacherous journey with no guarantee that you will ever find your way back home. No maps, no guides, just open space. Stars. Planets. All that space filling up the void. Every now and again if you are lucky you see a shooting star or burning things that flare up and fly by. You inch deeper and deeper into the depths of the unknown and when you least expect it you find the planet I am talking about.

It's not the kind of place you go on vacation or you settle down into but who really knows other than I. I am like a satellite still flying out there picking up reception from other far away places still hearing the distress call that keeps calling me to you. Lately though I have realized that it's not a call of distress, rather it is a call for a connection.

This all happened when I went to take a nap last year. I remember it. I was laying down and I just passed out really fast. Then I took off like a flash of lightning but slowly at the same time. I left out of 5 stories of brick and mortar. I flew through clouds. Birds. Planes. Gravity changed.

Going through the earth's thick layer of ozone was like passing a thread through a needle. It takes a very precise entrance and exit at the same exact moment. Then no noise. Nothing. Floating like anything that floats but weightless. You never land. And thus began the entrance to everything I have been talking about.

Bear with me. Synapses firing from memory. Electrical. Conjugation. Words. All this space and really nothing to write about. Writing about nothing. About anything. Desperate to communicate. Crash landing onto the planet after light years of travel which happened in the blink of an eye. You blinked and I blinked at the same exact time and at the same exact time I was there and gone but it took a whole year to catch up with it.

That's the tricky thing about space travel. You go in and out the door at the same time. You fold a protein. It folds you. You inside-out at the same time as you outside-in. You collapse on yourself and yourself collapses on you. Everything happens all at the same exact time. The creation, the destruction, the beginning, the end, the light, the darkness, the chaos, the silence, the complex, the simplicity.

I wrote this already but haven't even started at the same time. I already finished what I haven't even begun. My future self already arrived and left. My past self never made it back from the return trip and here I am. Message from a remote place. Message from glass that has yet to evolve from sand. If you understand this then you already understood it and if you already understood it then you have yet to understand it. That is what happens when you go through all of the ideas of how everything is, was and will be. You sift and sift and sift through the sand looking for something, anything and nothing all at the same time. You get just that. You get something out of it, you get anything out of it and you get nothing out of it.

I am constantly explaining what this means to you but does this even mean anything to you. I know you're there watching me write this. I see you. I make believe I see you. I imagine you seeing me. Does that make you real? If it does do you think you could stop staring at me. Just for a moment. Ok, now your not staring. Thank you. OK, I'll stop telling you what to do. Will you stop telling me what to do? Wait that is not you. I know. On and on and on and on. I get it. I completely understand it. I can keep writing and writing and writing and writing and writing. This. That and the other thing. Over and over again. Ok, let's go outside today. We have been inside for far too long.

Integration of the anomaly. That's fine. I can give you everything you want. But you will have to want everything that I will give to you. I'm sure you understand what this means. It's ok. Some people will think you are crazy. It's totally fine. There is a balance between everything. Some people will think that you are not crazy and some people will not know what to think of you and some people will know what you are talking about and some people won't know a damned thing you are saying and some people will say that you are saying things that you are not saying and saying other things that are being said to the things you are saying. We don't have to explain anything to anyone.

There's no point in trying to understand just what it is anyone is saying or you are saying and if saying it is saying exactly what it is that saying is supposed to say. After it is said then it is said and isn't that good enough? Otherwise, you wouldn't have said anything at all and still something would have been said.

If you have read this then hopefully it was good enough to read. If you read this line here, then you will have read everything that was before this line and if you read everything that was before this line then please pardon the appearance of some sort of mentation that started off from a long sentence that took place forty-two billion years ago but just finally saw the light of day.

Your ancient creatures await you. Please write us a postcard to everywhere you will go. Clean those pyramids out of your eyes. Take a bottle of water at least once a day. You will understand everything at some point when you stop understanding what you are trying to understand. Let's stop here for today. This last sentence will end with a period. Please tell me everything is going to be ok. Ok.