As Long as You Are Passing Through, and... Not Renting an Apartment... What You Aspire to Will Wrap You in its Cloak.

 God Poet Transmitting…….

Everywhere, and at every level, those hiding their Evil, and… masquerading it under different appearances… are finding themselves… exposed, and revealed before the coming light. 

Here is just one example; not the best or most glaring example, but… it will do. Part of the business is that people are waking up and seeing what they were previously overlooking. The other part of the business is Mr. Apocalypse parading evidence before our eyes, like… like magic.

Here is an example of Mr. Apocalypse stirring the river bottom and bringing catfish to the surface under the cover of mud. Then the mud settles.

I’ve given a couple of examples. I see many… many examples every day. I see things being exposed. I see clumsy efforts at concealment. I see people standing next to something when it goes off, with a look on their face that says, “Who farted?” I see people talking their audience into something, and then having to talk their way back out, but… the way back out is closed. (You shall not pass!!!)

I am awakening just like everyone else. I’ve also been working at it too. That was the point of taking psychedelics over a thousand times. I was relentless. Even when it did no good. Even when I wound up going the wrong way. Even when the environment got dicey and dangerous, I kept going. The secret to being able to keep going… is to keep going. I always believed that a fool persisting in his folly would be made wise so… I persisted.

I did plenty of things I wouldn’t do now because my persistence did lead me to a higher knowing. The greatest and only failure is a failure to try. We never get anywhere without risk. If you are fearless in the face of danger… danger knows it. Most of the time, as the warden said to Cool Hand Luke, “we have a failure to communicate.” Everything is alive, and you can get it to listen to you if you speak The Universal Language.

I don’t suppose I have to come right out and say what The Universal Language is… nor The Universal Solvent. The thing is… even here… appearances are deceiving. You might think you are speaking The Universal Language, BUT… your heart’s not in it. The main reason your heart might not be in it is because it has rejected the guidance of The Soul. All Love is not love in a communicating sense.

Acting like St. Francis does not make you St. Francis. One time, I was on acid and standing in a meadow on Lower Byrdcliffe in Woodstock, NY. It was early in the morning. The place used to be an old homestead that had fallen into ruin. There was a pond and an old ice house at the edge of it. It belonged to Peter Whitehead, whose father founded Woodstock as an artist’s community.

He was a friend of mind. I worked for him now and again, and he let me live on various properties. He owned a considerable portion of the town.

So… I was standing there one morning in front of a crumbling stone wall. I fancied myself in a Zen sort of mind… in tune with Nature et. al., I heard a scurrying noise behind me. Whatever it was… it was getting closer and closer. I thought the creature must have sensed my oneness with all things. I turned at a certain point to find a weasel with a mouse in its mouth. He was showing off. It was not some normally skittish creature come to bathe in my aura. I was not St. Francis.

I lived in a tipi there and a few weeks later at dawn, I heard someone calling my name. I went out to see who it was and it was Richard Manuel of The Band, who was a friend of mine… dressed to the 9s and wearing white patent leather shoes. This was not a place for that sort of ensemble. The real mystery was how he found me. As far as I knew he did not know I was there. Perhaps Desperation… as well as Necessity… is the Mother of Invention?

Someone had given me something over a quarter of a pound of pure Cocaine. I had become a popular fellow so… hiding out in the woods in a tipi made sense. No… I was not St. Francis.

That was just one of many inexplicable things that happened to me. I was in my bookstore praying to God about this particular drug… asking him if this was really something he wanted me into… even if I was an Aghori. It had an aura I didn’t like and things of a carnal nature tended to happen around it.

Right that moment, there was a knock on the door; it was evening and the store was closed. It was my good friend Bob with a big bag of Coke in his outstretched hand… smiling at me. Sometimes one is meant to go through certain things and that was how it went for me. I never much cared for that drug and did not understand how people could get so attached to it. It never had that effect on me.

Still… The Universal Language can speak along the darkest avenues if… you are just passing through. I haven’t done any chemicals of a mind-altering sort in some time now. I have a… well, let’s call it an arrangement to that effect and it is standing me in good stead. 

All of us pass through Dark County. Sometimes… most of The World is dark country. As long as you are passing through, and… not renting an apartment… what you aspire to will wrap you in its cloak of invisibility.

I danced on the edge of some deep canyons. You could not see the bottom from where I was standing, BUT… I was on a quest; call it a mission from God. It turned out to be true… so there… there is the ample proof of it; now being on the other side of it.

People who never ventured and never gained, love to judge the roads taken by others; roads they have never seen, nor know much about, and… all they can ever glean from judging that… of which they possess no knowledge… concerning the reality of it… is to imagine how they would have fared and what they would have done. 

Projection makes the little worlds go round. They judge you for what they would have done, but… that is not what you did.

People often hate other people for having done what they didn’t get to do. Their envy makes them angry; why should he get off Scot-free like that? No one gets off Scot-free my friend. If you didn’t have to pay The Piper this time, it is because you already paid at a previous encounter. Sometimes you have to go through certain things because mysterious laws demand it.

I could enrage certain types by itemizing and illustrating some of the more salient adventures I had, but… what’s the point? I get no satisfaction from that sort of thing, and the experiences weren’t that important to me, like they might have been to people, whose driving force in life is the satisfaction of appetites. They have pretty much always left me empty and frustrated with the succeeding entanglements.

Here’s what I know about such things. If you want them too badly they will run from you. The heat of your desire drives them off. If you don’t care about them, they will run after you. Everything wants your attention (including God). If it has your attention it will put you in its captive bag and move right on to get the next person in line. If it doesn’t have your attention, it will not rest until it does. Nothing makes The World wilder than someone who doesn’t care about it.

We all have to get through certain country… if not in this life then in another one. No one escapes the down-and-dirty tumult of The World forever. Every master has a secret life of shame. If you dawdle in the mud puddles of The World, you are there until you are not. In certain times… it seems like most of the people are caught in the glamour. What fascinates me is that this is what fascinates them. I’ve seen cleaner… shining worlds. I don’t get the attraction for this one.

You either desire or you aspire. One puts you in the common herd… and one lifts you out of it. Still… once out… The Common Herd becomes your concern because you are either a shepherd or a deceiver. Like those people at the beginning of the post, being a deceiver… in a time of apocalypse… is not the best look… when your real face… despite your best efforts… keeps getting more and more visible to others.

We are emerging out of great confusion. The Enemy has taken full advantage of this to lead humanity astray in the process of killing it off. Now… they are left with a steaming bag of shit that is about to catch fire. What’s that term everyone is kicking about these days? Fuck around and find out? In times of confusion… maybe people don’t know exactly who did what, BUT… in times of apocalypse, they are going to be discovering just that.

(I know I told that weasel story before. I am not in my dotage by any measure. (grin) I write what comes through the tap. Sometimes it repeats itself.)

End Transmission…….

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