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Cell By Cell We Awaken
Touching Those We Never Imagined
Sep 2, 2021
Last night I was door-framed by a friend. You recognize what I mean. You've come around to help clean the flat before they move and just as you’re leaving, putting on your shoes, literally upon the threshold, you are pinned like a moth.
I had given my time freely without strings and such occasions tend to open one to another, like a barter party where we exchange without buying or selling. She gave freely of her opinions.
She knows me well, including my life-long tendency to analyze: what others call over-thinking; what bosses call too much information; what I used to call — eliding a title of the Irish singer Gilbert O’Sullivan — “I’m a worrier not a fighter.”
Well, now I get to be all three: worrier, writer and fighter.
What the pinning in a frame concerned was whether I had felt the change from five senses to seven. That being a bit above my pay grade in the chakra department I asked what she meant.
I’ll simplify things by switching to the present tense and first person.
Haven’t you noticed how people have woken up this past 18 months. It’s not on the intellectual level because they simply could not absorb enough information in that time to comprehend what’s going on.
You! [she has the faintest tone of accusation in her voice]. You love talking about how the world works but you’ve studied it for years. These people have no such information and they have not had time to think about it.
They are waking up at the cellular level. It’s not information or persuasion that is giving people a different outlook. People are changing physically and spiritually — and this could not be happening any other way.
Context: an old dog
As a youth I was shy, made worse by poor eyesight and a habit of calling one person for another. If I felt the return of their gaze, I responded eagerly. I have always been a bit of a mongrel: watching the pack, waiting for the opportunity to enter the circle.
One cheerless day, preparing to say goodbye to a four-legged companion of my life, I read a book intended to ease the break. Remember, it said, what your pet has taught you and put it to use. Your dog never overlooked your arrival as humans often do, slouched on the couch, eyes fixed on the television, grunting cognizance.
Every single time you arrived your dog got up and gave you the canine equivalent of a hug and a ‘dang, it’s good to see you’.
This is nature’s teaching. A true lesson that softened the incompatible alchemic admixture of my parents’ loins.
Random mental tanking
My friend tells me, somewhat peremptorily, that she knows everything that I said during my awakening and that I do not need to repeat it. Strange benediction — but I am familiar with the one-liners of this particular divine.
Truly I didn't know anyone had listened during my awakening. Heard but not listened. Why would they?
It’s not strictly true. I had a friend when I worked in Moscow who had once had high-level ties and a family history in the KGB. He listened but usually volleyed my shots with such practiced American talking points that the match became routine. It was always a good workout.
Once in a Texas Starbucks I fell into conversation at one of those wobbly metal tables facing the car park that they assign to smokers. The encounter deserves the moniker ‘eyeopener’ but I’m not certain it was the eyes. Two minds rapidly engaged all the gears and it is not possible this happened without some kind of sensory signal.
Sex, I would understand: how people click on the level of eye language, body posture, the olefactory recognition of pheromones or the electricity of touch.
We traded only — mighty — ideas. A nod between two members of the French resistance. Information exchanged: did you see this, hear that. We agreed what it meant.
Only one smoked. Apart from coffee there was no outward bond. A brief encounter and we parted on our seperate ways never to meet again.
I was not bubbling that day with enthusiasm, or anything for that matter. I was, as they say, not in a good place in those years. I was tanking more than waking. Yet I was still transmitting enough whatever-it-was to connect.
The stars, the fall
Martin Luther King Jr. said, less than 24 hours before his execution: “Only when it is dark enough can you see the stars.”
I would not tangle with one of America’s finest orators — I make the distinction with great writers who speak their words, as JFK did — but illumination precedes the darkness.
For me the process of awakening was painful, as many can attest, I’m sure. Relatives set me up for trials and tests, angrily demanding timings and deadlines. My family was ruptured. Relatives feared for their jobs if I used the same computer for my searches. I am not exaggerating — but who was the paranoid one?
I could not continue in my job. I crashed out of a six-figure television production job because… … . If you have read this far you understand how it would be impossible to organize news broadcasts containing story after story you knew to be slanted in order to serve vested interests whose malintent you fully comprehend.
Depression was a cleaning of the mind. I returned the drugs my doctor had prescribed. I soon learned that the free samples my psychiatrist gave me were no different to the meth, crack or heroin dealer hooking the client.
Threshold of a dream
I am still stuck in the doorway.
I listened to what you said and you were ahead of other people by 10 or 20 years but you missed something and you still cannot see it.
You still concern yourself with their narrative. You think you are clever because you see the world in 3D while most people are trapped in 2D. But you haven't yet opened your crown because if you had, you would know, not talk.
If you were aware you would finish my sentences. You would not need to persuade yourself or other people. You would not preach or convert, or search for an audience.
Submission, down, down
Part of me is ready to defer. In truth I have absorbed two similar arguments. It is clear that Event Covid is largely a narrative that is meant to entice, entrap, confuse, divert and waste our intellect.
In science I know we communicate on an electromagnetic level because that is what so many animals and insects do, from bats to bees to the intuition that any dog owner sees in a creature that sits upright minutes before a member of the pack walks through the door.
Maybe 5G cannot touch us because we have many greater fields of communication that have not even been labeled or named. Or perhaps it will hit those who are restricted by their mental bandwidth.
It is a fact that the U.S. and Israel have developed electromagnetic weapons for crowd control and disabling people. Whether it gets more effective with a few metallic or carbon adjuvants in the vaccine remains to be seen.
Our ultrasonic animal friends are already victims, their numbers in free fall.
The target is our mind. For Event Covid to proceed people must sign up to a mental reframing that is more closed, more of a vicious circle, than any religion that those same people are quick to criticize.
The desperate effort to persuade tells me the people behind the operation, behind Event Covid, are spiritual, metaphysical, not religious but an internally-consistent cult.
9/11 was more of a psyop on a grand scale. That was probably why the Bush clan was proud to front it. After the NAZI pageant that grand-daddy Prescott helped stage, the bloodline logic determined that Dubbya should reboot the musical. It must have stung Poppy that his role was to seed opium fields while chanting “new world order”.
Clear evidence, in my view, that the Bush family are marionettes serving a greater power — but connected directly to The Great Reset, Event Covid and the NWO. If they were string pullers rather than puppets, their demeanor and energy, their emission, their emotive transaction — would have been different, not to mention their actions.
Body language tells much. The confidence of a Kissinger. The shrew-like eyes, darting and hiding, of David Rockefeller, even with the security of position and wealth, even when speaking to one of his own appointees Charlie Rose.
My friend does not use the word metaphysics and I feel she is beyond first principles. She is the practical equivalent of what the academic world calls an activist.
A comment to my preliminary post while forming this article wrote pointedly: “Maybe we are just now seeing the world as your average Syrian, Afghani etc has seen it for the past few decades.”
Yes, and in two ways. On the one hand the Vietnam fusion doctrine has come home. A method of breaking Viet Cong — socially by terror inflicted upon their family and daily life. Harming more than morale, their very perception of the chance of survival, of the will to live — this is now being inflicted upon Australia, Canada, New Zealand and to a lesser extend the Americas and Europe. God knows what’s happening in the backwaters.
See it another way. The Syrian and Afghan has felt this fusion for decades. They faced the most advanced technology and the most powerful mind war the Americans and Europeans could drone them with.
Forget your ‘side’ for a moment. Objectively, they not only survived but thrived.
Did they overcome through military might, intelligence information and presuming to play off enemies against each other — or is there a deeper role for consciousness?
 Covid lotus by courtesy of the artist