“Like, who are you? How did you get so much relevant information? I feel like you know way too much that the rest of the world does. I’ve been looking for similar articles on the net for fifteen years and I have known your site since 2011, I’m totally amazed by your foresight.”
Cool, thank you very much! Early in the morning, nice news, good start. Far from any narcissistic inclination, I avoid this bad-tempered pride which does not suit me at all. I take the whole thing seriously and combine it with humor. Friends readers, know that this post is not isolated. Other brothers –sisters welcome!– have ointed me with that oil. Thank you all. (speaker’s coughing)(probably oil)
Mystery does not suit me either. (a single laughter) I have nothing to hide, nothing to chew, nothing to spoil. But much to be annoyed. (applause) You can see me, you can write to me, as long as I have the energy I will respond to emails from some of the 5 million readers on this beautiful blue planet. And that too is fun. Thank you reiterated. Fanfare, horn, fireworks. (laughs, feet bangs) A lot of people have questions about me. Do not. So I chose to answer this one point by point. And once and for all, modesty obliges. (heavy applause, whistles, feet bangs)
Full monty me
First of all, who I am not. No god, no angel, no demon, no superman, no shit, no prophet, no moron, no alien, no bum, no elected, no winged, no elohim, no gym teacher, no guru, no tailor, no emulate, no guide, no life coach, no death coach, no spy, no pipole, no cagole, no boast, no jerk, no cuckold, no known. No longer a legend, nor a myth, nor a scholar. Just me naked.
I am not the Pope either. Would you have believed it? I am not providence, but I think about it. I am not of the seraglio, it derails. I am not the passing girls, I have passed the age. I am not sorry to act without irritating myself on my four truths, all deserved. And to show off my nudity.
Here’s what they said about me: – Just a brave asshole who wants to fart higher than his ass. (Raël) – Screenwriter and guru. (Christian Goux) – We deplore at Séguin a total lack of social culture. (Gagnepain, French teacher in form 4) – Séguin knows nothing but he understands everything. (Gault, French teacher in form 5) – My first 20/20 in the bac!French final exam (Jean Milet, philo teacher in form 6) – You only go out one rubbish at a time but it is jostling at the gate. (my mother) – I like to read you but I don’t understand half of it. (an Eden Saga reader) – Hey man, I want some of your weed, looks great! (another reader of Eden Saga)
(laughs, whistles)
Whozzatguy?
Thanks for the good comments. Everything to please. Nothing to bray. Male in his seventies who looks masculine. Point. Enough.
But still ?
I am the author I would have liked to read. I am an artist who dedicates his life to the cult of beauty, of all beauties, especially inner beauty. I’m in love with a star who gives me back my love and more. I am someone who applies. A hundred times on the job I put my work back. I am someone who doubts, and someone who does not doubt anything. I am first of all someone who does not believe and I am above all someone who believes.
I am the voice that cries in the desert. I am the desert which believes in life. I am the fire that shines in the night. I am the vril that shines in the crowd. I am the door that we push, laughing. I am the shoot that we carry while shouting. I am a very feminine man. I am a very leonine cat. I was a woman in other lives. I was infamous and I ran away.
Location too far from shore. Old too young for my age. In the eyes of the fawn, I stare at the white. Child of fire, I understand blue. I’m the one they don’t follow. I shine – it shocks the passing moron. I am the one who is acted upon. I act silently – no compromise. I am the one who obeys, who rejoices, who thanks them all.
My children see me as a father, my ex too. So am I. In Tonguz belief, I am a shaman for being born after twins. In the language of Don Matus, I am a warrior, a wizard and the nagual of my clan. A very poor nagual with no clan. Like Castaneda, I messed up my clan. But I wouldn’t do the stupid thing to screw up another one …
Turn the page to the mirage
Like Castaneda, I write about myself, about my experiences, my training, my journey in non-ordinary reality. Like him, I am a three-branched nagual, maybe that explains it. Juan Matus did not remember the part of the Rule that deals with three-branched naguals. He was therefore unable to pass this on to his student Carlos Castaneda, who therefore did not write it in his books. So I will do like him, and refrain from talking about it.
I have received many gifts in sharing. I thank my donors, of course, but I am not talking about these donations. I am addressing myself above. The intangible gifts, the most precious, those that a good fairy gives you at birth. With me the Donor from Above has been more than generous. I want to give him thanks. We kiss her, I know she’s looking at us. For nothing in the world divine grace would not miss the slightest sentence of this saga which is his.
I have met exceptional men and women. They helped me – sometimes without realizing it – sometimes knowingly. May they be warmly thanked all as much as they are the damn scoundrels. I love them, of course, from afar. A life is lived by itself, don’t you know that? Friends, darlings, yes. But still alone, at the end of the bottom. I said from the bottom, heap of unlearned.
We deserve all of our meetings. They are tuned to our destiny and have a meaning that is up to everyone to discover.
I do not know if all my meetings were deserved, on this point I am aware of having abused. And I continue without any remorse. What life gives you, accept it with gratitude, lest you tire of its generosity. What life does not give you, try to have it anyway. And if you don’t have it, know it’s better for you. You can’t always have what you want, but you have what you need. (music)
The hands in the sludge
So I say thank you for a gift like a kick ass. Do we ever know ? This blow could bring me luck. And I really have ass, normal that we shoot in it, it annoys those who do not have it.
There was in my life the phase of toast which always falls on the jam side. Now there is paradise. There was the time of charms, then that of weapons, that of alarms, that of tears, and here are the times of charms. There was the angry bear, detached humans, harnessed by death. There was the gruff bear, vacca de mala leche, let’s say the badly licked bear, language of the goslings you expose yourself in abundance with rhyme and reason outside and in the house in spite of the seasons the love for prayer of all time we always fuck we are silent.
At the age of shaking, I stretch. In the heat wave, I shiver. In the cold of the black winter, you get lost. In the depths of despair, I sing a story to you. I know hundreds of them, I will discover a thousand more for you. This is the life I have chosen. All day long I write, and at night too. I have something of an insect. My painstaking work, my firefly glow, my ladybug life – the little beetle stops, speechless, before declaiming a few lines from Voltaire. Should he have shut up?
My mind since my youth
Pursues arid truths
I left the shining charms
Muses and gods and guides
For the astrolabe and compass
Of some Maupertuis or Euclides.
(source)poème à M. de Saint Lambert
