Now Or Never

 

Too many people veil their faces so as not to see that they are blind. Pitiable TV addicts, couch-potatoes at home, sunburnt lizards on the sand, dead bodies in the coffin. They move like robots, no need for GPS, they know the bloody everyday way. And tomorrow comes finally, tomorrow underground, tomorrow the worms. What human has time to lose?

“The problem with you, says Juan Matus to Carlos Castaneda, is that you think yourself immortal. The time has come for you to take your death as counselor. Your life long, your death is standing behind you. A few centimeters behind your left shoulder.” (source)

There is more than one ostrich in the barnyardlost in translation but there is but one humpty dumpty sitting on God’s wall. Believing friends, keep it up. You are on the right road. Above all, remember not to believe as soon as you believe. Otherwise you risk mind inflation, which is egocentric. And we’re tired of the ego. Enjoy, enjoy, tomorrow you’ll have no more teeth, no more plate and nothing to put in. Awake. It’s hard time.

Lego ego, I read, I untie. Delicate delirium. I is somebody else. I am no longer me. You are me and I love you. I gave you everything, told everything, I go on. The teller is naked. The fairy tale counts the hours. Soon I won’t be here anymore. Glad you liked it. Doom, good or deep, is your lot. Happiness comes in time. A warm gun too. We don’t keep happy days. We don’t keep the common good. Happiness passes away. Raptor misfortune. Against it no carapace. So dance. Keep rolling until waking up.

There is more than one gangster in the lobster trap.lost in translation again ! sorry so! I have a little broken religions, chiefly monotheistic religions, which are not monotheistic at all, because the gods, I mean the fake ones that have made us, are super numerous in fact. They do not blame me at all, they’ve been dead for a long time. To be or not to be: they chose. To those who get rid of it, I say this: one doesn’t cook Hamlet without breaking God.lost in translation! sooooooo sorry again!  Open your eyes.

 

 

Religions do not connect people anymore, they isolate. They divide their followers. They create hatred and exclusion. They curse, they banish and they kill. Do you know that God is silent? The voice that speaks to you in secret is YOU when you grow up. No God in there. The light is yours, not his. His imams, priests, monks, pastors and gurus are scary. The lie is in their eyes. Hate is in their hearts. It is time for believers to break their chains and get out of the net. Time to escape the lobster trap. Time to spin. To scroll. Distrust. Deify. Time to wake up.

One always buys the same products in the same places, according to one’s religion-consumption so according to one’s status – either the supermarket, or the organic grocery store, or the market – now you feel flexitarian, because it’s good, very fresh and trendy, while the meat is rancid. A girl in search of likes asked the pope to be vegan during Lent. Francois did not answer. A pope must be far from people, like a king, like a president. They’re sleeping deep.

At Hippopotamus they eat rhino, it’s rosse. The viandards are ready for anything, even to eat seal wolves like barges and gray ostriches like Nazis. During the Commune the Parisians have eaten sewer rats, gutter cats and in the end the animals of the Winter Circus. A plane crashed in the Andes, out of reach of help, the survivors ate each other. Sorry, Jesus gave the wrong example. Take and eat, this is my body, he said. What a shame. Are we barbarians, monsters, nazis? Where is the human? Awake today. Tomorrow never comes.

The more it changes and the more it is the same. We dance, then we lay, we baby care, we take expensive, every day it’s getting faster. I love and love, I keep on loving madly. The only thing to do. Love doesn’t make deaf, on the contrary, it refines hearing. Yes. Take my word. The third ear is open. I feel the kisses that my darling sends me when she’s away. I feel everything she lives. We all have an interest in love. The one we give is stronger than the one we receive. If you don’t receive love, just send it. Give, you will receive. The scalar group is made for that. Awake soon.

 

 

I am sick too. But it’s pretty bad. It runs, it runs, the love disease runs in the hearts of children from 7 to 77 years … (source) Chic I’m still eight years ahead of me! There is more than one rabbit in the sweet banknotes. A rabbit caught in the headlights, a rabbit that is posed as one puts a collar, such as love who thought to take, pleasure to wait, map of the Tendre. A risk to take: two hearts to crack? happiness to spare? A rabbit because too cute is a cabbage rabbit, too queen is a bunny rabbit, too hot a bunny carrots. Yes my friend. It dumps that ravigote. Awake quick.

Change of time, change of fate. One day you see yourself dead, too late, you have it in the baba. Nothing seen coming, nothing understood at all, nothing lived either. Yes, it’s going fast, faster than you think. Dad did not tell you that. You do not have eternity before you. Awake now.

Nobody can iron the film back. In your life, your moments of happiness, no freeze frame, it scrolls all the way. You see them when they are no longer there. “Sorry Mother, I’m sorry I did not come to see you, I was scared, sorry my children, I missed you often.” I take the lead. My heart is wide open. I do not fear winter anymore. I’m not afraid of yesterday anymore. I’m waiting for the global awakening.

Humility, sweetness. Amenity, warmth. Brotherhood, happiness. Who will say your inner power? When will you see the infinite strength that sleeps in your mind? Gush forth in you the living source, a flood of energy that nothing is exhausted, the secret torrent of your Wouivre, the boiling water that makes you drunk. It sleeps, well hidden, never solicited. You ignore it. You do without its resources. You refuse water from your source. You don’t know if you’re sleeping yet.

All weakness is illusory. Another name for modesty. Of your power you feel scary. Are you afraid to get airy? Ultimate riff of the band. Hide your head in the sand. Take your feet in you hand. Death sitting at your table. Forget your sleep comfortable. Forget your destiny portable. Too many alarm clocks babble. Turn them off as soon as you’re able.

Awake right away, ride the middle way. Get ready. It’s now or never.

 

You can already answer the survival questionnaire. This is a good way to take charge of your life.

Pass for an idiot in the eyes of a fool is a gourmet delight.
Georges Courteline