Yes, lost. But don’t worry about it, the replacement is on. In fact, it’s already there. It’s waiting. A few of us are going there any minute. It’s better than the one who’s leaving. Much better. And what’s not bad, it is made to last a long time. Veeeery long. For the record, it was already there when there was nothing else.
Everything is from him, from him, conceived by him. And everything is bogus, except him. The pre-existing, that’s how it is called. It has other names: the pleroma, the great elsewhere, pre-existing. It is also called here. Here and now. It lives in the heart of the moment. Any moment for anyone.
You want to know why our world is ruined? Our world, a big word. This world is for everyone. Even for the mygales. Everything that could fit into a fictional material framework was put into it. Our world is fictitious. Invented from scratch, like the few billion parallel universes that form what is known as the multiverse.
People too are fictitious. Virtual images of real entities that have remained there. Elsewhere. In the pleroma. All roads lead to it. Our world is screwed because its time is over. Planned for.
Travel broadens the mind but shrinks clothes. No matter, only our clothes travel in the material world. The essential is invisible to the eyes. We can only see well with the third eye. That of the heart.
There are five ages that follow each other at the queue-read-read. The first age has no name and no fixed duration. The second is the golden age which lasts 32 thousand years. The next three last as much, which is 64 thousand years. Age is respectable, so we respect it. There is no derogation. All worlds like ours last 64 thousand years, that’s it. One sweep, the next world.
As the elements, there are five ages. We have kept only four, the golden age, the silver age, the bronze age and the iron age. We take them from the Greeks and Romans, this “antiquity” that we believe to be very learned. Fatal mistake: this decadent period was already too forgetful. The West was not born in Greece, it died in Greece and Rome.
The five ages follow each other nose to tail. The first forgotten age has no name or duration. Impenetrable, unalterable, untouchable, we know nothing of it, even ignorant of his existence. Yet without it, nothing would exist.
The second age is golden. It lasts 32,000 years. Silver, bronze and iron all together last as long, making a total of 64,000 years. A respectable age, let’s respect it. All the material worlds last 64,000 years. There is no derogation. One sweep, the next world.
And what about the first age? It has no duration, I said. Nothing is fixed with it. It lasts hard, it stops constantly, it continues all the time. Inconceivable is it, don’t try. Out of reach as long as one is just a garment. As far from the foggy consciousness as the pre-existing can be.
Like the physical body, the astral body needs its two hands. One is the pre-existing, the other the first age. Only the pre-existing feels it, understands it, sees it and hears it. And you are not there. Oh no!
Look at the formula that we sell in pharmacies, or the first small jars. It says first age. This is it. The babies are snuggled up in there. Naked, really alive. As they grow older, they come into the world. This world where you get bored. Then you dress them. No more babies, gone home in the pleroma.
Their clothes remain down here to play the human comedy. When clothes are worn, people have done their time, they fade without a trace. Other babies come out and the carousel continues. It has been going on since the dawn of time. Since the day before the night of time. The robe makes the monk. No punky monk in honky tonk.
What to do with these garments? Why not burn them alive? Death of the body is nothing when the body is amorphous. Dead already. The disagreement of the friendly body is still a scenery. Nothing is true in this material world because matter does not exist.
Sense, essence. A collection of short poems I wrote when I was 18. If sense is essence, what is existence? Exists in heaven, it is left in heaven.French: Existe en ciel, c’est laisse en ciel.
Religions have spoiled the heart of man by demanding blind faith and neglecting his desire for enlightenment. All religions are automatic sleep machines. They appeared a few millennia ago, to precipitate the end of the last age, kali yuga, iron age, the reign of darkness. They make the brainless sleep to ease their suffering. Just a little bit. For most, this candy is not enough. There are drugs for those.
The awakened ones are no longer clothes. They are in them. But they’re drooling in such a rotten world. The deep sleep that surrounds them signifies the mourning of intelligence, honor and bravery. The awakened cultivate these virtues, and many others. But no one sees them. The eyes of clothing are designed myopic and astigmatic. That’s why I’m here.
For these empty tissues, the noble virtues no longer apply. How can we hope for a revival? Even if only a sudden burst in their deep sleep? The clothes are soft, without a spine, ready to flatten at the slightest adverse wind.
For these empty clothing, the noble virtues no longer apply. How can we hope for a revival? Even if only a sudden burst in their deep sleep? Clothes are soft. Not vertebral, the soft clothes undermine our morale. Raging rags, skunky skins, steady vests ready to reverse at the slightest adverse wind.
The vast majority of humans are no longer there. They have only the bark, the appearance. As long as you look at them from afar…
They have nothing human but clothes. They fell asleep inside. Zombified robots, robotic zombies, they vote and elect hungry wolves like the good calves they are.
No spine in acts or ideas. People worship one god, from London to Los Angeles, from New York to Tokyo, from Hong Kong to Paris. One god has totally eclipsed all the others. That’s reality, just open your eyes. This god is not one. It is only a miserable archon named Mammon. Sounds like Maman in French, initiatory language*.
*French is an initiatory language like Sanskrit and Hebrew. There are very few. Initiatic languages are spoken by initiates. Ordinary men can speak them, but do not understand what they really say. The language of the goslings (not birds) was made for French, it does not work in any other language.
He played well, that devil Mammon. He chewed the heads of winners and losers. He sucked the marrow of local or international athletes. He has bitten the hearts of his aficionados, fervent believers ready to burn rather than deny Mammon. Most Holy Money pray for them. The kings cake** is eaten at every meal. The kings in question are the kings of fools.
**Lost inTranslation: Kings Cake, French: Galette des Rois. Galette also means money in slang.
The virtues they understand are avarice, greed, theft, rapacity. The talents they cultivate the art of cheating, corrupting and extorting. The qualities they possess are perfidy, cruelty, insensitivity. The education of young people consists in flattering these virtues which are vices in nobler times.
The highest diplomas are awarded for baseness and ignominy. Students showing a willingness to help others and selfless giving are excluded from schools. No university can accept them unless they prove their conversion to vice and its works.
Only the Naguals escape these infamies. They study at the source of all past. The Naguals hold in their memory all the Naguals who preceded them. This has made me inherit millennia of pain and suffering. And many secrets too.
Hey! What’s the hell ???
November 18 7:28 PM I went through what the Sioux call a vision quest. You gave me the book of Tahca Ushte whose full name is Tahca obey Ushte bute. I obeyed. The vision came, it lasted 3 days and 4 nights. Tahca blessed me, Ushte did not kill me, I am alive.
20h50 Here I am ready to make an exceptional reki. The vision came to me last night. The real Reki Nea will live again in my body on the very place where he was born.
W comes tomorrow for his individual training. No more tarot. On the evening of his arrival, laying hands upon his head, I will read his future, I will know his desires and I will reveal to him the program of the days to come. Yeah.
On Wednesday morning I will continue to read in him as if he were an open book. Everything is wide open in me. My mind has opened up. My wings too. I take my flight towards the twin stars; my destiny no longer belongs to me; everything that I have lived so far prepares me for this heavy load. I take it as I love you. Wow!
It’s not just Eden Saga that disappears!! I must have fucked up!
I have had a new vision that displeases me. Countless crowds of all ages and colours kneel in my path. Many women pluck their hair out as a sign of penance. Men prostrate face down and all these people repeat in trance MESSIAH! MESSIAH!
No way!? I look at them one after another, in a trance of fear from the pressure they are exerting on me. What do they expect from me? I have no idea. Their eyes full of fear and hope devour my every gesture, watching for I don’t know what signs written in some ancient prophecy. Impossible to say when or where. On Earth? On Ur? Are we dead or alive?
–It was written! This man is the Messiah! yells a tall man. And the whole crowd sings in rhythm MESSIAH! MESSIAH! MESSIAH!
Me? Silly joke! Don’t they see they scare me? Fuck off! I turn around in the crazy hope that the real messiah, the one they are cheering on, is standing right behind me. But I’m alone in an empty circle. All around I see but these hallucinated faces, these prostrate bodies, these outstretched hands endlessly moving and waving.
The further I advance in this human forest, the more strange faces seem, close to animals, even plants. I must be at the end of our humanity and I continue to move forward by a strange force, in an unreal calm. The voices have been silent. No more noise. The sound is cut off. I see them moving, gesticulating, without more noise than if they were behind a thick glass. I always go further into the distant past.
Nothing can take me away from a goal of which I am unaware. I understand nothing but the imperative need to always walk in the same direction, that of the BEAST, that of the great serpent flying from the origins, as if a meeting between us could settle the dispute between the sons of the BEAST and the daughters of the Woman.
The sound comes back suddenly. A raw, mesmerizing song. MESSIAH! MESSIAH! MESSIAH! The crowd of the borders is less dense, more sparse. She still sings MESSIAH! MESSIAH ! The faces are no longer human and the looks have lost none of their intensity.
Vain gods!! They cry so loud that the earth treememmemmble !!!
I’m dead.
Soul Avatars
One last word for a final effort. A few notes are still missing to equalize, aggregate and endorse the debt.
I see two people who are thinking about it, but haven’t acted on it. Will they regret their carelessness? … Too late?
There are not four elements, but five. The first is called ether. But we forgot…
The I Ching or Yiking was incomplete. I completed the hexagram Chen.
Human history begins in Africa with the Australopithecines, the first Blacks.
Listen calmly to the images while breathing deeply into the thoughts of Einstein.
FINAL WARNING / Unless a burst of generosity, Eden Saga will not reach 2025. Hurry…
Beyond the usual seven chakram, there are others of equal importance: shoulders, arms, hands...