Planet Amnesia

The idea of waking up vs. sleepwalking is everywhere, lately.  Depending on who you ask, the events playing out represent everything from a cold hard truth we need to wake up TO about xyz, to a masterfully choreographed reality-experience intended to wake us up FROM xyz.  

I have had a few moments of losing normal lucidity, lately, just for a second.  There’s this really disturbing footage of a ceremony they held in Cern, Switzerland for the grand opening of the Gotthard railway tunnel.  The ceremony was, um, extremely occult.  I have a background in the fine arts and am normally down to watch some great, weird “art” by whatever name; even if I don’t like it, I can still acknowledge it as art.  I don’t like most art, seemingly, but I do feel strongly about people’s right to create it, and to be lauded for it by shallow assholes at parties, after.

Anyway, the Cern railway tunnel ceremony footage I saw started out as some video playing on my phone, while I sat here at this fire camp like I always do, and then it started to frankly suck me in.   By the time it was almost over — and this is not even, like, the full ceremony, just a YouTube compilation of the basic gist of it, and why we might want to find this concerning — I felt like an actual spell had been cast on me, and not a good one.  It’s hard to describe — it was just people, in various costumes, moving in organized ways, but then all of the sudden it wasn’t; it was…I don’t know, let me go on and maybe I’ll circle back to this.  It almost seemed to have the power to reach out and follow me “home” from my viewing experience.  (I consider my own spiritual thriving to be a sure thing, FYI — I’m not actually worried.). Even going for an accurate description feels like giving it a power it’s better off deprived of.  You can watch via the link, but honestly I’m not sure I recommend it. 

I was trying to take a nap after this, of all things, and was pretty annoyed at the imagery I found floating through my mind, as a result of having viewed this video.  I kept seeing, for instance, a dark eyed and dark haired little girl sinking below the translucent surface of [?], maybe water with a thin sheet of ice on top, except there was a sense of it being warm rather than cold.  And she was looking up at me but swirling and being pulled down.  

And instead of being concerned for her, the emotion — not “my” emotion but some emotion attached to the visual in the first place, was…rightness, and appeasement.  It was like an engineer seeing spokes on a big wheel turning, and it didn’t matter if those spokes were people or animals or what, it just mattered that they were turning, and there was satisfaction in that.  It was like a disorientation from something more fundamental than gravity, and I could see how people in this state, which seems easily introduced, to be honest, could lose the anchor of their own Golden Rule.  Like…if you got sucked into that world even a little, you could essentially lose track of pain’s meaning the same way you do on the good drugs, post-surgery, even if that pain is right in front of you, or all around you.  

Words don’t really do justice; it was more a visceral thing, and I wasn’t trying to entertain any of it.  Just unfortunate timing with my attempted afternoon nap.  And it’s spooky writing about it now, with the sky still dark, but the sun will be up soon.  

For all my considerations of the metaphysical/spiritual, I haven’t been interested in the occult at all, and I couldn’t even tell you what I mean when I say that.  Just anything that feels dark or…like what they did to Aslan the lion, in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe series.  

It’s interesting that, according to Teal Swan at least, the head honchos of these Satanic covens are, in fact, women.  It seems jarring, in contrast with women’s typically heightened concern for others’ welfare, but at the same time I can see that the energies of the disconnected and even connected masculine are infused with a prime directive to surrender to no one and nothing, except the feminine.  The experience of the Cern video and the unwanted reveries it inspired were feminine, but in a womb-like sense — blood, and magic you don’t understand, and don’t need to understand for it to work, and timelessness, and trance-like hyper subjectivity.  

The time for magic has not passed us by, despite our clunky modern pretense, and it can be good magic or bad magic.  Sex itself is proof enough of that — an essentially altered state and a spell we can cast or invoke, which normally stays confined to its corral but provides the occult with its key psychological ingredient, larger scale.  That was evident in the Cern video too — I was like, y’all’s railway tunnel christening is off the chain, seriously.  NSFW.

Obviously my takeaway of it was negative, as a function of presuming it to be an example of the occult influence that’s probably prevalent, through time and continuing on today.  I wonder if my assessment of [everything] has been crippled, blind to the underlying vigor of occult underpinnings?  I could see someone steeped in this practiced form of dis-orientation looking at a pleb like me and saying, Mwa-ha-ha, you don’t understand the intoxicating, dark majesty of our secret world.  And I could also see myself saying, motherfucker, we’re here to create, not destroy.  If you can’t tell the difference between the two, zero respect.  

I can also see how, through time, the feminine principle has been maligned, and the masculine principle has been seen as a bulwark against the threatening primordial (ie feminine), which is extra scary as a function of ourselves helplessly responding to it.  Not only do we reject what is within us, but we only reject what is within us.

I do want to have a better connection to my own mystic self, and admitting to my own extrasensory experiences is a good start, I suppose, but gah — no wonder we’ve been terrified of snakes and fire since the dawn of time.  We are the snakes and fire.  

Then, back to the point about lucidity, it is essentially disorienting, in a different way, to watch riot footage.  There’s a lot of riot footage, and not all of it in the US.  People are clashing on the streets in all kinds of places, for all kinds of reasons — with the police, with one another.  A global view of emotional trauma hotspots would look like a survey of seismic zones, right now.  And I mean even watching news is like tripping balls.  Watching Biden try to say something without his teleprompter is like tripping balls.  It would just be sad, if he was a resident of a nursing home and this was the annual Christmas party, but given the context and national significance, it is much more of a ball tripping.  Among other examples.  

Realizing that the chaos is not only strategic but actually savory to some distinct faction of humans is…kind of undeniable, now.  I’m with Jordan Peterson on this one — we carry the seeds of chaos within us; we certainly don’t need to water them.  Life does that for us, while we’re better served making our beds and saying our ideas out loud more and more clearly, for our own Apollonian sakes.  

I also had another odd dream last night, this one not so well remembered.  It wasn’t a nightmare, more of an annoying-mare, and featuring a woman I associate with a high degree of chaos and primordial impulse, poorly organized by haphazard attempts at rational regulation, mostly mimicked.  The details are gone.

Looks like our flight to Hawaii will be on Halloween, interestingly.  I will not be in costume, or only my normal uber-femme costume I’m most comfortable wearing.  

So yes, I’m seeing all these things about people waking up, people need to wake up, the awakening being gentle or rough or only necessary.  Unconsciousness not serving us; never has.  I have various feelings about this.  I’ve always felt a little too conscious for my own good, maybe, and when I encounter others in the world strongly identifying with their x y z self-constructs…I’m a little jealous, maybe?  But not really.  I’ve never wanted to be less like myself and more like anyone else, fundamentally, but I’ve always wanted to be a better myself than I usually am.  It would be nice to occupy a cookie cutter world and think that was the extent of it, maybe.  

I guess the real question for me is to what extent does it serve us to wake up from our embodied reality while still embodied?  It’s a big hologram.  The traditional spiritual wisdom is, the more wakey the better.  Joseph, an entity channeled by medium Michael Reccia, highly recommend, has had it.  He’s like, “For the love of god, stop choosing to reincarnate here.  You guys are obsessed with getting back in line for the same shitty roller coaster, over and over, in a huge park full of other roller coasters, and stuff much better.”  

According to him, the whole intention behind embodied experience was to enter a reality construct in a physical form (“I’M IN”) *while* remaining consciously connected to our god roots.  So the stakes were a smidge higher than when we float around as pure positive vibes, but not too high for comfort.  

So the denizens of the roller coaster called Earth were like, “You know what would make this ride really intense?  And would result in a much faster rate of learning and expansion?  To make it so we all forget anything besides this exists!  A literally immersive experience.”  

And everyone was like, “Yeah!”

So that’s what they/we did, and apparently they/we have actually brought the planet to annihilation twice before, thanks to not remembering the point of ourselves, and we’re approaching annihilation number three.  And the problem with annihilating ourselves is that we’re eternal, so we just go into a type of cold storage (because we so deeply believe in our disconnection from the rest of the universe) while the entire earth repairs itself over millennia, and then we come back with our same bullshit again, like a meme.  It reminds me of that old movie Flatliners, with Julia Roberts and Kiefer Sutherland, I think?  Where what starts out as a cool experiment actually destroys the existential guardrail that normally keeps us safe from some dire brink.

And to put a finer point on it, we are essentially radio receivers.  We have that hard wired into us, spiritually and physically, with the pineal gland.  We didn’t destroy that part of our meta-anatomy, but we did render the signal we normally tuned to, mostly unavailable.  SO INSTEAD, we tune to what Joseph calls “the Field”, which is the sort of helplessly toxic emissions we produce when our major agent of psychic hygiene, individual steady connection to Source, goes chronically MIA.  Kind of like a cell that’s always taking in new stuff and ejecting old stuff, but if the stuff has nowhere to go, the cell is drowning in it and ultimately taking it back in.  That’s us; and that’s “the Field”.  Stewing in our own psychic filth.  

So it should be one dominant clear signal coming through on our radio, that keeps us beautifully lined up despite our embodied adventures, but instead it’s mostly static and a lot of garbled horrible yelling coming through, as we scan.  Then of course we integrate that toxicity, spew out more of it, affect those around us, and it’s like a form of pollution that gets worse and worse.  Then we annihilate ourselves, go into cold storage, the earth repairs itself, and it all starts over.  And all because we had the bright idea to make Planet Earth a totally different kind of roller coaster from the rest of the park — a roller coaster that, once you’re strapped in, you literally forget that any other life or experience existed before.  It’s all roller coaster now.  And when it’s over, we just get back in line.  And get back in line.  And get back in line.    

How exhausting.  How shitty.  So that’s what I think about, when I think about “waking up”.  It’s like we all decided to get as drunk as we can without even having a designated driver, or someone to take care of us.  And what’s even more stupid is we put animals here as a kind of failsafe, because they are great balancers of benevolent energy, great connectors and conduits to Source, and then we forgot that too!  I mean, think about it: we’re literally too fucked up to even have emotional support animals.  We just eat them, and then complain about being lonely and out of whack.  “I’m so lonely I guess I’ll go kill some people, on this nice bellyful of Moons Over My Hammy.”  Unbelievable.  

And the whole rest of consciousness, which mostly isn’t involved in Roller Coaster Earth, is trying and trying and trying to get our attention, but we literally made it so we can’t hear, we’re stuck in a loop.  Really ambitious.  

So these are the ideas I try on for size, and from that viewpoint, everything happening here is a collective illusion, and I guess I’m not so interested in waking up per se (I’ll cross that bridge when I die on it), as I am in at least gaining some control over the collective illusion we’re willing to tolerate.  It is actually possible to regain our connection, our intended connection to Source, at least enough for some of us to keep the toxicity of the Field from overload levels.  It’s like a liver — that shit can keep going for a long time, if even some of it is still filtering, and if there’s even a slight mitigation of the toxins coming in through diet.  

I would interpret this weird psychic brush with the occult I had, yesterday, to a blinking meter showing me that toxicity levels are rising — I mean, if that’s what they’re up to in public, to celebrate a railway tunnel, wtf are they doing in private and in earnest?  So we need more hands on deck, connecting to Source on everyone’s behalf.  And luckily it’s so easy to do.  Our actions are literal but also symbolic.  Expressing kindness and interest in one another — not even full time, but like once a day, goddamn — tunes us in, tunes them in.  It’s not heroics that are needed, but relaxation into relief, going with the flow.  We don’t have to be good at it and we don’t have to be consistent and we don’t have to know why and we don’t have to keep score.  The wind is at our back, magnificently, in every moment we decide to be a ray of sunshine.  The world didn’t get this way from a lack of heroics; it got this way from a lack of smelling flowers.

Well, all the Marines are here for their showers so I should probably wrap up for today.         

2 thoughts on “Planet Amnesia

  1. The dynamics of sex magic with a k have been perverted and corrupted by the ruling elites. It’s really all about projection at this point. Saul Alinsky’s peon to Lucifer, the first radical, has the one golden rule of accusing your enemies of that which you are guilty (or twisting tradition rites into abominable perversion ie the body of christ into semen, shit and menstrual blood composed ‘cakes of light). Anyhow. The Gotthard Tunnel opening is also on our wavelength. We’re into the Source for better or worse. The column you just wrote is a summation of the novel I just sent in word doc form. How well it’s executed is the thing. It might all be terrible and that’s OK. I’m trying is what matters, undeterred I guess. It’s encouraging to know that we’re on the same road to waking up and seeing the same metaphorical fingers pointing to the constant x, y and z.

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