In my semi-awakened moments in this still night morning — when I was almost woke! — I did as usual and I heartily invited Divine Mother to supercede [sic] over me and transform me into the energy of the cosmos. This is usual and customary when I experience those moments. I find it works well for me.  I’m not asking or telling that you do it.

In any case what thoughts I experienced were of receding into the sub-atomic being of energy, where I have waived my particles, where my state and/or whereabouts are not both known, and even then only one of them upon observation, where my curiosity and joyous amusement are more Schrödinger’s cat and less the Cheshire cat. Where is not where!

It occurred that in this sub-atomic energy level all things are made alike of the same sub-atomic particles quantum waived and all things are connected in this energy force and that the soul does not love it is love itself and it does not exist it is existence itself and it does not know it is knowledge itself.  Of course we are all one in and as this energy force and best thing of all:  we all forgive ourselves!

Chapter Two

When I walked my doggies this morning my mind was well stimulated and frisky.  I chanted a few Rādhā Soāmī things just for the heck of it.  The calming effect was quite welcomed. I was thinking teetering between wave and particle.  I was thinking about us all and about the ones who hide themselves behind a wall of illusion and about what we can bind and what we can waive when, delving into the past a nostalgic bit I started singing this song crossing Dodge Street:  ‘woulda done different, woulda done different, can’t go back, can’t go back’.  This was amusing and gave me positive feedback pause though, of course, it related to an outcome I’d much rather have changed to save someone some undue hurt and or to save myself some probably due anguish and remorse.  This is a song I used to dwell on though I never knew the words.  I didn’t need to.  And, of course, the difference came right to me:  it used to be a major depressant back then to go there and to dwell there like my tendencies to do.  Now it’s like reading a story. Now I know that I know better yet still in the utmost of knowing and even knowing that I know better and knowing that I know and knowing the words the human me still always manages to do things that should of [sic] could have been done better and differently with more tact and more compassion and more consideration even more awareness.  There is no level of awareness or awakedness [sic] or, dare I say? woke [ibid] [sic] that prevents, precludes or circumvents the human experience in all its glory and deficiency.  But boy does depression hurt.  I’m so glad that isn’t a thing of the currents of visitation any more.

This being a Saturday morning, Wanda instinctively knows to demand the longer more leisurely walk.  Now, on Newman I was approaching the preferred Wanda turn around an even extra block on East Falk.  I was thinking about Falk Street and about what separates them. A dual duo duality of front yards, double back yards, for sure.  And you can’t get through to the other without taking three more streets (or two more streets and a highway).  This, of course, is like the days of our lives are, sometimes.

Chapter Three

My mind went on to ruminate on the other Lazarus and the special mission that the rich man asked that this lowly sore-ridden Lazarus to take on behalf of the rich man’s friends.  In the telling of the story, the rich man indeed got his wish.  Everybody was warned. That is everybody who consumes the literature is warned.  The friends are intercoursed over for ever and ever as is the rich man. When you think this over, doesn’t it seem a cruel use of literature to use a story to give such a dire warning in the kernel of the story itself?  Maybe not.  Maybe it’s just me.  But from another angle, think about the request.  The rich man wanted to warn and hence “save” his friends.  But the friends and the rich man are out of luck out of grace out of saving, living (if it can be called ‘living’) in an eternity of pain and suffering.  This is all due to the duality of the ‘reality’ of the timeline. We, the target readers, are receiving the ridiculously requested warning in steed of the friends of the rich man.  We aren’t friends of the rich man, as much as we have been well socially conditioned to act as if we are. But that’s a big tangent. Why do we place everything and stake everything on the threat of eternal punishment? I completely disagree with this premise. But our culture has bought it hooker, line and sinker. One life with eternal judgment is the one and true “Big Lie”. There’s nothing I can say, argue, persuade, allude to or otherwise demonstrate that will dissuade the mortally frightened of the eternal pain and suffering away from this dire and macabre dependence on debilitating fear.  But that’s not up to me.  Thousands of lifetimes will weather that hard rock head of yours to silica sure and finely enough. And the kingdom of heaven is at hand! In the light of this any ‘opinion’ of mine is as nothing.

Chapter Four

And I’d for sure be a huge gargantuan hypocrite if what I say is taken as a strike against the Christ spirit or against the splendid human woke man Jesus.  For I am all with them.  I regularly infuse golden Christ energy and breathe it out here on earth.  My second-physical aura is continually saturated with golden Christ energy.  I am only against the organized insult to intelligence and integrity that is popularly accepted doctrine. And I am dead set against that!