Some people are coming after me. They’re biting their fingers. I’m protected. By whom? I don’t know. Irrelevant. This is a fact, I know the consequences. Whoever tries to harm me drowns in his shit. Sorted. Twisted. Fried. But I have nothing to do with it! I may get aids. These aids may not be of this world …
Today they call them angels and demons, tomorrow they will call them something else.
I do not take revenge, “they” take revenge on me. What can I do? I just tell my truth. That is my place. A sacred place, apparently. All obstacles are quickly removed. Power, precision, speed. Amazing.
Super powers at my service. Which are not mine. It started with this site, in 2008. Immediately a hand spread. Protective. Striking its power. Supernatural. Its precision too. Faster than light.
I am protected when I tell. The invisible require nothing. They encourage me without comment. I must not be silent. Preacher of awakening. That suits them. So do I. Days of wonders. Awakening? Why do? People’s sleep is much more reassuring… As long as the people sleep, the powerful make gold. But there is faster, more powerful than the powerful. Death matter, heart of the mystery. Say. Avoid the worst. Provide to read.
Miracle maker, I am channel. Banal subject, neither fanal nor signal. Kill the mystery. Do not shut up. Ideas to help, and to divert. Armoured protection. Born in 2008 with this site. Writing that excites me. Dominique had told me: – You will be protected as long as your work continues. So be it.
I don’t understand anything, I’m ruminating this intuition that becomes certainty, I am, you are, it is, we are driven.
So I guess that’s where it comes from. I believe it… without believing it.
Cherish the future. Think positive. Refuse to exclude. Remain available. Dedicate myself endlessly. Serve my fellow man. Values practiced for years — too Christian for one who is no longer Christian. Do we get rid of religion? I’m not a little saint. Not from a demon, not from a monk, shaman, guru. I am as helpless as you. I am content with my role, the only one that blossoms me: witness.
Witness to what I have seen, read, known or lived in this life and in others. Witness to golden dreams, hollow dreams, dreadful nightmares. Witness of everything, of us, of you. Witness of the finds of which I delight. Witness of him who was as of him who is. Witness of tomorrow, since it is necessary.
Friends readers, this is my prayer. Do not take me for a big one, I am so very small. Seek the road with me.
Conversely, those who help me are rewarded. Do not ask me anything. Read me as if I were already gone. Leave me where I am at home. In another world where I am the king. Let me listen to the passing wind. Let me tell you my story at hand, my truth for tomorrow, another story of the human race.
Dig the symbol of the circle, embrace its deep meaning, you will no longer fear death. It is only the price to pay for another round of the circle. Do not harm your health, your body, your life. You are precious where you are, try to take advantage of it. The one who kills himself is subjected to the law of the circle. He reincarnates in the same conditions. Day without end. Night without brake. Everything is to start again until awakening.
I had a terrible new year. On December 31, I was devastated. Lamentably, I had more than one foot in the grave. In great danger, I no longer fought. Death in the face, eyes in the eyes. The day of January 1 was worse. I no longer controlled my negative emotions. Submerged, I dragged myself from wave to wave, floating away with vague eyes.
On January 2, without me knowing why, I was getting better. Around noon, much to my surprise, I was quite well. It did not appear, because I still had to mop up the backlash. With a great need to understand the why of how. I was writing this article, tapping like a deaf on my keyboard, when an alert stopped me.
A kind of cold light, white as death, invaded me from head to toe. The party. With increased vigor and a molded fly, I climbed to seventh heaven. But it wasn’t high enough. During what seemed like hours, I climbed again. Like a wingless plane, I crossed the clouds. In the great sun, I could see the earth rounded under me. And the ascent continued towards the Undefeated Sun.
After the fact I learned of the death of my lifelong friend, whom I called Gilles in my travel diary in India. His real name was Dominique Coquelle. My agony may have echoed hers. And my rise to heaven may be a reflection of hers. When I titled this paragraph on January 3, I was still unaware of this death…
My empty head sounds like a drum. Through the sound waves, this is what appears to me. In large, very clear, infinite enjoyment.
We come from the Great All. We are warmly enveloped in love and light. Nothing can bring more intense happiness. No effort as strong as it is, no drugs, no earthly joy. I have the desire to last, motionless, filled, full of bliss.
Suddenly, without mercy, I incarnate on earth. It’s as if in hell, because immediately deprived of this incredible happiness. Cut off from the Great All. Deprived of love. It’s dark, it’s cold. Ineffable pain, torment, despair.
Then comes the ego.
The ego arrives when paradise dies. The ego results from the deprivation of the Great All. The ego is hungry, lonely, wounded. The one being is split. The game without the Whole. Far from Total Happiness, one must row aimlessly, fucked, good to throw away.
And this is what happens. Thrown into the melee, dressed in a habit of flesh that begins in suffering. The fetus grows, blossoms and grows old. The ego will do the same. The birth sees the appearance of an adult amphibian, a dying old man. He dies in the moments just after the birth. The skin loosens, the features take on the round appearance of the infant.
The fetus has lived. The ego takes over. The game of the I comes. The ego reigns. The negation associates with it at the edge of the fleshly life. It’s the age of the non-je-ne-veux-pas that’s going to last a long time. Negation means: I’m sick of this body, I’m sick of this stinking place, I’m sick of little humans. I want to go home.
We spend the first half of our life forging a strong ego, and the second half to get rid of it.
In the first half of life, say up to the age of 40, the stronger the individual, the greater the pain and frustration of having lost the bliss and the easy life within the Great All. Remains only a void and increased suffering.
I have done without many pleasures. My will has grown stronger over the years. One after the other, I vowed to give up bonds. The man who can do without everything will no longer be afraid of anything. But if we can do without everything, no one can do without the Great Whole. The pure, unbreakable, unalterable happiness that everyone loses by incarnating. Replaced by emptiness. Unbearable absence.
This void maintains fear. Little by little, sublimating this state of life separated from the Living One, levelling the suffering, the ego ends up letting go. He passes on his hand. He stands still at the bottom of the garden. Levelled, fragrant, the pain lasted a long time. On January 2, 2022, the last door opened. The bestowal. The apotheosis. The Kingdom. The Kingdom. I recognize this peace which is mine, the serenity of the Great All. Reconciled I am.
Without my knowledge, the Great All has protected me all my life. What life? Nonsense. Real life is elsewhere. In the Great All. The last fear that dominates all others, the fear of death has left me. I believed that death would deprive me of life, while this so-called life deprived me of the Great Whole. Fusion without confusion. Bestowal. Effusion.
Suddenly, the Eagle’s Gift is thrown to the nettles. What an idea to try to escape the Eagle if the Eagle is the door of the Great Whole? Carlito, Carlito, did you stumble and fall again? The reader will choose. Either the Eagle hypothesis ensures survival after the body’s death. Or it’s a big mistake. A good chance to find yourself in this vastness out there. Another thing: we have no testimony of a death that could have escaped the Eagle. The dead do not testify. Question: how did the empty nuevos, the seers of the current cycle, acquire this conviction? Honestly, we ask ourselves…
I am not a lecturer, but just a storyteller of power stories. Not stories read or heard. Facts lived in my flesh. In the Spirit. In the Great Whole. This final bouquet fills me with a fervor and intensity that bears its signature. Between the Eagle and him, my choice is made. Well done!
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said, “All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them”
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
I thought I felt unconditional love, now I realize that unconditional love felt me. I feel like a fragment of the Great Whole. Finally, I am home.
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