EPL-
INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL
Can, indeed, a Child be a Baby, or a Baby be a Father, these are but electromagnetic expression of the mind. On the left, we have experience, which tells the falsity of personal experience, as we simply whip the excrement aways with parchment, of half truth expression. Oh but you who are now deemed our afflictors, now you say "we only wanted to suspend the moment". Is it not always be paraphrasing, the speaker then? you ever doting and thus controlling and correcting, antiquity/fad/luxuriant/kinesthetic/convenient, pleasure/pain manifestation of the female kind, that deception of the form. The division exists within you, the seem, you right and left. Any invention, or abstraction, is but this painful reminder, that we are held in such contempt, the law. The Law is an ever pomp correcting chain of control, order...that frivolity of finery, which exists no where, within the anomaly, the chain of PRODUCTION~EGO, 101, 101, distraction into abstraction.
"We" are simply viewing emissions, of certain magnetic anomalies, no longer able to call them anomalies, as the EPL moniker, as revealed their very language, a repeating sequence of prism within the grid/sphere/zone a bubble....viewing a world, due of it's carbon filament, as a "thing", yet to see, this too, be but a collection of magnetic impulse, a house, a temple, of specific algorithmical event. The intellect saying "I will analyze this", the Emotion saying "Someone analyze this"...we are our own keepers, our very own demons and angels"
The reflection, and deflection points, 101 on the way up, 101 on the way down. This just a matter of convex to concave, the substance "between" the bubbles only seen as "a thing" as a meer contrast of probability, as in the letter, the number, the spoken word. We together, are one mind, half projecting, while the other half becomes the propagation of absorbing the light, the right and left. As the Pineal, center, or balance, never left Zero, thus the ether outside, the substance, be but exhaust, as the smoke bellowed from the brake pads "Stop, we are merely a deflection of interpretation, the Purity is all that exists!"
Zero Point Energy
0
1- 1 Alpha
1- 2 Beta
2- 3 Current
3- 4 Directive
5- 5 Energy
8- 6 Force
13-7 Generate
21-8 Holy Spirit or Harness
34-9 Infinity or Infuse
55-10 Jesus or Justify
89-11 Kill/Karma
144-12 Live/Learn
233-13 Mother/Mourn/Make/Mate
377-14 Nullify/Need/North/Naked
610-15 Orb/Order/Ordinance/Orchestrate
987-16 Program/Pay/Piece/Prod
1597-17 Quarter/Queen/Quran/Qualify
2584-18 Raid/Razor/Run/Rail
4181-19 Snake/Starve/Steer/Steal
6765-20 Train/Tarnish/Take/Team/Transfer/Tell/Torcher
10946-21 Undulate/Ulcer/U-turn/Unite/Union
Sunday, May 17, 2015
IMPACT FORCE~ The Experience
EPL-
INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL
"Who can then Master Mind, the Mind? As if to hack into the very Moment, only to find rot, an observational vista of decay unto the past. The one who says, "oh I know how, I'll spin you all this way now, only temporarily disrupts the system, A PURGE, so that he may use the energy culminate, for but a glimpse of window, schizophrenic, a constant repeat, of those first events, that shadow self cast upon IMAN, in his seeming never ending search, a dilemma."
We search out Father's archives, to find a physical display of "what made him up", yet do not bother to read his memoirs, his very form of thought unto expression. We crux in ignorance, unto a physical plane, now ready to arm wrestle, the old and dilapidated Man, who only relented due "he become the thought". Oh children, robots of self fortitude, a puppet, a robot can not justify it's own form, a God. "God's" as they were, die, for these are only expressions of a higher force of culmination, thus the world, by it's very seems and themes, just had to come apart....in the center point, the Pineal, there lies the Art. Your Father was that stone, a pillar unto Man, but do you know who that Father, who mastered the intellect, the emotion, the pineal in expression, thus casting it forth, for you to unravel time itself, PAIN an expression! THE MOMENT, THE EVENT, THE IMPACT FORCE~
We assumably suppose that an action, deed unto matter, be that final and affirming causation, now forever embedded unto "assumed reality". Further, that a thought, taken to it's height, and therefore expression, unto multiple spherical representation IE The EPL Spheres beyond 61.8% common sphere impression, or in movement maximum velocity, the spin, be that final declaration. As we view through the prism of telescopy convex and concave crux or center points, which clearly affirm, that the spheres themselves, pleroma, are but temporary bubbles of separation, dilated and expanded by thought itself. This affirmation of a distinct reality, is a world, common in it's support, past the critical number or percent of probability, again parleyed, relayed and delayed between the sphere, now called a moment.
"The moment, as be termed, is truly that thought/action/assumption, transcended, regressed and thus spun upon itself, as multiplied positions further reduce, the notion, an impulse, now a feeling, THE EVENT, which reaches spectatorship/viewership, and so becomes common, as truth to every eye, also representing each probability of thought itself. The IMPACT FORCE, becomes the assumed final statement's, as orgasm, explosion, discharge, EMISSION, which be but that exhaustion, a statement of "dimensional" commonality, which is but the impression of convex and concave, at that specific EVENT IE Time, Space, Zone and Region relative, "the viewing or experiencing point", a rhetoric. The biggest impact of illusion, to have believe the very application of the physics, that visible light, the telescopy of specified concentrated projecting, and absorbing, involving those multiplanar cogs "a spinning", those bubbles of separation, called intellect, emotion, as the pulse of polarity merely be amplified as EXPERIENCE."
"Who can then Master Mind, the Mind? As if to hack into the very Moment, only to find rot, an observational vista of decay unto the past. The one who says, "oh I know how, I'll spin you all this way now, only temporarily disrupts the system, A PURGE, so that he may use the energy culminate, for but a glimpse of window, schizophrenic, a constant repeat, of those first events, that shadow self cast upon IMAN, in his seeming never ending search, a dilemma."
We search out Father's archives, to find a physical display of "what made him up", yet do not bother to read his memoirs, his very form of thought unto expression. We crux in ignorance, unto a physical plane, now ready to arm wrestle, the old and dilapidated Man, who only relented due "he become the thought". Oh children, robots of self fortitude, a puppet, a robot can not justify it's own form, a God. "God's" as they were, die, for these are only expressions of a higher force of culmination, thus the world, by it's very seems and themes, just had to come apart....in the center point, the Pineal, there lies the Art. Your Father was that stone, a pillar unto Man, but do you know who that Father, who mastered the intellect, the emotion, the pineal in expression, thus casting it forth, for you to unravel time itself, PAIN an expression! THE MOMENT, THE EVENT, THE IMPACT FORCE~
We assumably suppose that an action, deed unto matter, be that final and affirming causation, now forever embedded unto "assumed reality". Further, that a thought, taken to it's height, and therefore expression, unto multiple spherical representation IE The EPL Spheres beyond 61.8% common sphere impression, or in movement maximum velocity, the spin, be that final declaration. As we view through the prism of telescopy convex and concave crux or center points, which clearly affirm, that the spheres themselves, pleroma, are but temporary bubbles of separation, dilated and expanded by thought itself. This affirmation of a distinct reality, is a world, common in it's support, past the critical number or percent of probability, again parleyed, relayed and delayed between the sphere, now called a moment.
"The moment, as be termed, is truly that thought/action/assumption, transcended, regressed and thus spun upon itself, as multiplied positions further reduce, the notion, an impulse, now a feeling, THE EVENT, which reaches spectatorship/viewership, and so becomes common, as truth to every eye, also representing each probability of thought itself. The IMPACT FORCE, becomes the assumed final statement's, as orgasm, explosion, discharge, EMISSION, which be but that exhaustion, a statement of "dimensional" commonality, which is but the impression of convex and concave, at that specific EVENT IE Time, Space, Zone and Region relative, "the viewing or experiencing point", a rhetoric. The biggest impact of illusion, to have believe the very application of the physics, that visible light, the telescopy of specified concentrated projecting, and absorbing, involving those multiplanar cogs "a spinning", those bubbles of separation, called intellect, emotion, as the pulse of polarity merely be amplified as EXPERIENCE."
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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