Saturday, May 16, 2015
Becoming, the necessity~
EPL-
INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL
There was a time, when a mind, one in total truth, always, would be capable of rising above assumed laws, which be synthetic, governed by man, that time is not now. There will be, however, that moment, man realizes, he became his own god, I'll equipped, bending time, remaking himself, remaking reality, with an iron fist, until he realized, there were far to many dimensional potentials/probabilities, far to many angles, halls, by which to govern, thus enter The Brother's Black
.
The idea of traveling back, forth, arranging, rearranging moments, thought, by a computer, and a mans lopsided bloated ego, that he is indeed god, not merely a contained semi organism, in a realm of Phi, where none has proven themselves worthy of the one self. There are those who now realize, yet again, that what has been done, can not be undone. The variables, the probabilities come out the same each time. They began to think, those elite doctors of mayhem, what if we could man, to build into this reality, a guilt like non other, backed by synthetic space time manipulations, so that the thought contained within the sphere of exist, could let us off the hook. The origins don't lie, the point where the knife stuck, penetrating reality, was thus, with one beings doing. But alas we are contained, unable, and undeserving of ever breaking out of the thought matrix prison, which we continuously loop in our intention shown by degree to contain. As if a child who played with fire, at first a god in his own mind, now seeing his home, his family, his life dreams and reality, swept up, with an oxygen vacuum, into the void of his own despair, the fires. This realization, that I am incomplete, flawed even, trapped within a restarted film of self discovery, be the true parable of the Genesis which will never become an exo, but an internal and eternal pre-thought, in the warehouse of what could have been.
We are one mind, alone unable to see the degree of devastation to we as a unit, of one. We forget that we can not soul with us, not a built one, with the wisdom of a prior on our journey of reembodiment. We come out, a morphed version, as that monster stays trapped within a sphere of his own making, hoping, wishing to trade places, that we may carry the guilt of devil. Each carbon copy, dumbing down the form, as we reinvent, even improve, what was meant to stay a soft and subtle weakness, as in the birds legs.
We, unwilling to be one thought, one mind, to carry forth with our one mission of the day, whether it be to forage on egg corns, or become an active part of the matrix, we instead suppose ourselves as pleasure seekers, self makers, and are thus lost in the baggage of extra and protruding lobes, which continue the binding, the assumption, that alone exist, without first, becoming. Man has the unfortunate reality, that he shall always and forever see things reverse and backwards, from the first step toward infinity, flawed then with each subsequent misstep, he ventures but on a habitrail of his own making, an illusion, a sphere with the energy of 5 points, he has become black jack 21. For man does not realize the way to and through the prism of exist, begins with the empty mind, if he lay witness, it will be this through the mind of a squirrel.
Man seems to realize this, and thus punish himself, with the yield to a master, who will allow him things, his own father can not and will not. Man bends to his own god, of the time, constantly creating a new one, at each sudden realization, the reaction, he went the wrong way. We have persecuted and tried one another, brothers. There are now to many copies of us, to be of any use, for the pone mind is the way, even in the corporeal, as to even out the back balance. Our evasion has thus, shrunk us as a majestic unit, of bit 13 original souls. That invention, or weather amendment, and reinvention of our sex mate, has cost us dearly, the identity, thee remembrance of who we are, and what we are suppose to be doing. No longer able to hide in an imaginary crevasse, with the universe of the mind of Uber Got.
There was a time, when a mind, one in total truth, always, would be capable of rising above assumed laws, which be synthetic, governed by man, that time is not now. There will be, however, that moment, man realizes, he became his own god, I'll equipped, bending time, remaking himself, remaking reality, with an iron fist, until he realized, there were far to many dimensional potentials/probabilities, far to many angles, halls, by which to govern, thus enter The Brother's Black
.
The idea of traveling back, forth, arranging, rearranging moments, thought, by a computer, and a mans lopsided bloated ego, that he is indeed god, not merely a contained semi organism, in a realm of Phi, where none has proven themselves worthy of the one self. There are those who now realize, yet again, that what has been done, can not be undone. The variables, the probabilities come out the same each time. They began to think, those elite doctors of mayhem, what if we could man, to build into this reality, a guilt like non other, backed by synthetic space time manipulations, so that the thought contained within the sphere of exist, could let us off the hook. The origins don't lie, the point where the knife stuck, penetrating reality, was thus, with one beings doing. But alas we are contained, unable, and undeserving of ever breaking out of the thought matrix prison, which we continuously loop in our intention shown by degree to contain. As if a child who played with fire, at first a god in his own mind, now seeing his home, his family, his life dreams and reality, swept up, with an oxygen vacuum, into the void of his own despair, the fires. This realization, that I am incomplete, flawed even, trapped within a restarted film of self discovery, be the true parable of the Genesis which will never become an exo, but an internal and eternal pre-thought, in the warehouse of what could have been.
We are one mind, alone unable to see the degree of devastation to we as a unit, of one. We forget that we can not soul with us, not a built one, with the wisdom of a prior on our journey of reembodiment. We come out, a morphed version, as that monster stays trapped within a sphere of his own making, hoping, wishing to trade places, that we may carry the guilt of devil. Each carbon copy, dumbing down the form, as we reinvent, even improve, what was meant to stay a soft and subtle weakness, as in the birds legs.
We, unwilling to be one thought, one mind, to carry forth with our one mission of the day, whether it be to forage on egg corns, or become an active part of the matrix, we instead suppose ourselves as pleasure seekers, self makers, and are thus lost in the baggage of extra and protruding lobes, which continue the binding, the assumption, that alone exist, without first, becoming. Man has the unfortunate reality, that he shall always and forever see things reverse and backwards, from the first step toward infinity, flawed then with each subsequent misstep, he ventures but on a habitrail of his own making, an illusion, a sphere with the energy of 5 points, he has become black jack 21. For man does not realize the way to and through the prism of exist, begins with the empty mind, if he lay witness, it will be this through the mind of a squirrel.
Man seems to realize this, and thus punish himself, with the yield to a master, who will allow him things, his own father can not and will not. Man bends to his own god, of the time, constantly creating a new one, at each sudden realization, the reaction, he went the wrong way. We have persecuted and tried one another, brothers. There are now to many copies of us, to be of any use, for the pone mind is the way, even in the corporeal, as to even out the back balance. Our evasion has thus, shrunk us as a majestic unit, of bit 13 original souls. That invention, or weather amendment, and reinvention of our sex mate, has cost us dearly, the identity, thee remembrance of who we are, and what we are suppose to be doing. No longer able to hide in an imaginary crevasse, with the universe of the mind of Uber Got.
Stellar Mass, The Reactor [Apex]~
EPL-
INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL
Stellar was on the run. He reached the door of the reactor, there were four in each wing. As he ran in, he saw a massive cave, a hanger, which was built within cliff side Rock. The reactor was the size of half a "football" field, and as high as a quarter of thus. The screen sat there, as a seemingly inefficient barricade to the huge waves, which were constantly in motion towards the cliff side, which powered the reactor. Stellar first climbed the reactor, he saw no cameras, but truly knew he was being watched, by a synthetic mind, which needed no image. He passed beyond points of scan, and knew it was only a matter of time. He had just run from a similar reactor, and was pursued by the mechanized officer, whose clothing was his very image, yet he moved as a personality, and in his pursuit of Stellar, he was to large to fit through the many small areas where Stellar temporarily placed himself. Stellar was tired, and he had to give in. He simply could not go on any longer. The conclusion of where he was, what this time/place was...it was daunting, and exhausting.
The conclusion always be the same~
Stellar was on the run. He reached the door of the reactor, there were four in each wing. As he ran in, he saw a massive cave, a hanger, which was built within cliff side Rock. The reactor was the size of half a "football" field, and as high as a quarter of thus. The screen sat there, as a seemingly inefficient barricade to the huge waves, which were constantly in motion towards the cliff side, which powered the reactor. Stellar first climbed the reactor, he saw no cameras, but truly knew he was being watched, by a synthetic mind, which needed no image. He passed beyond points of scan, and knew it was only a matter of time. He had just run from a similar reactor, and was pursued by the mechanized officer, whose clothing was his very image, yet he moved as a personality, and in his pursuit of Stellar, he was to large to fit through the many small areas where Stellar temporarily placed himself. Stellar was tired, and he had to give in. He simply could not go on any longer. The conclusion of where he was, what this time/place was...it was daunting, and exhausting.
The conclusion always be the same~
Friday, May 15, 2015
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