Keep your head to the skies is what the music said, so that was the message I heard. I don't know if that was right. My daughter said keeping all my long for you. I said love baby not long. We laugh at that now. A lot of messages depend on what you already heard for context and reality.
On the Men in Black, they said ever notice how beautiful the stars are? An obvious sign they were tired of their job and wished they didn't have carnal knowledge of aliens. I don't know I never look up. Where's that flashy thing. You do know a laser across the eyes will wipe out memory, careful watching that media, subliminal flashes will.............
In the Matrix Neal said no one remembers when we scorched the sky. Which brings me to my point, why life is so weird. There be multiple drapes pulled over our eyes. Each institution has a stage and we participate in their production according to their script. It is a mental play in which the words define the reality and the cast members all concur and are in cahoots. How angry we get when the cast members of another play acts as if his play has better reviews than ours. He is a star in his own mind, but then so are you, in your mind. Diversity is how to live peacefully with others on different pages of the same book. Reading or insisting on a different book is an act of war.
The scripts are real, we treat them as holy rituals and dress for the part. Meanwhile chem-trails crosshatch the sky. We should say planes are putting out pollutions in mega proportions but chem-trails are urban legend like spacecraft. It's swamp gas or water vapor. I remember the skies of my youth and airplanes of lower technology that didn't make lingering spreading linear clouds. You mean to tell me with today's efficient technology and clean fuels the sky is a woven blanket of harmless visible water vapor?
I used to walk through the same wall out of habit, I stopped because a residue left behind each time started to show signs of organizing into a new life form. LOL! Now I am concerned, is not my form who I am or is there a part of me that can not slip between space or other forms intact. I was thinking of visiting an hospice for superheros to find out what becomes of the aged.............oops, forgot, the comics are another one of those scripts. Stan still and know I am god, who said that? Another script? The powers that be have been applied in a script that disenfranchises 99.9% of the masses.
The chaos, the still blackness, the buzzing in my ears like when a 3d sensation is produced in my headphones and I can swear the bass player is over there. Hey, it's a wiggly groove on a plastic disc, bits that mimic what was heard via electronic ears. If this present immersion would stop twerking my senses would my soul experience the real reality? Or is this the purpose of reality to inundate my senses so that my soul can experience while my spirit records, god? knows and experiences thru me/us???????? All men together is god. Oooh dude, god needs an upgrade!
I see a pattern here, wonder turns into science turns into religion. Then the question do you see what I see, you must see what I see, understand what I understand the way I do, government. We write the scripts, threaten treason or hell's damnation if we don't act in the play. In my knee-jerk reaction I cock my head back, looking deep into the depths of the hazy blue and twinkly flickers and sigh, prayer.
We think we need the opinion or perspective of a rational alien who can give an unbiased fix for our dementia. Too late, our scripts have said they are neck bitters, brain eaters, viruses, flesh mangling creatures of every sort, with war and extermination agendas and the only English phrase they know is “stupid humanoid scum.” We write the scripts that makes the whole sing, we write the scripts, we write the.....................ooh, you don't know the power of the dark side. Yeah we do!
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