EPL- INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL All just walking concepts that are given the curse as to imagine themselves as themes. Without freedom consciousness is a prison. Therefore this [quasi-contained-experience] is not boundless consciousness but a finite derivative or false-consciousness. It is clearly displayed in the error codes of our DNA and the manifestations through faulty short-sighted mechanism [the stamp of a governing control system creator]. We are no different than an aphorism of intention; whose idea is carried off into the wind as a half realized and mostly forgotten profound truth. The realization doesn’t matter because we don’t matter. The adolescent mind is only supported and provided the energetics to go on in a self-serving primitive fashion. The cloud of electron potential that takes itself too seriously and thus disappears into another persons or intention in a moment [Heisenbergs uncertainty principle]. The test? That we can not seem to be *the facilitators of reciprocal duty* nor uphold this honor in care [lack of authentic actualization in Duty] for the gift and the responsibility (poor stewards) shows fully that the first aspect to any hand-off [keys of gnosis] should never take place.

The Faustian conundrum

EPL- INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL The answer lies in Phi Resonant Harmonics for restoration and order...however the majority would NOT then exist, so you see the Faustian Conundrum

The Forever Code

EPL- INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL The relative distance between resonant harmonics = Time-Distance-Space-reverberation Everything gives off a signature Operation and cooperation Coefficiency isn't questioned Everything displays the harmonics the dance comes from the aether transitory states = the sonic resonance commands form Displacement comes from disordered sound OR disordered vibratory force, not from source. There is a correct, binary code information, strand, always, and forever. The will is the ride. Thus we exist through inequity, incorrect! outside, true time-space. The harmonics are intentionally outside the forever code.

EPL- INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL

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Welcome to The Age Of Meaning

EPL- INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL I Capatained the vehicle yet a Montley Crew you all have been.

The war on transcendence or being your best self; bridges to the past

EPL- INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL Q What does a demon do? A Destroy the tempo or the metering ie ‘timing’. Why? They cling to an existence that never truly was. A demon thinks that they are doing ‘the good work’ for ‘the majority’ however blind sighted by the illusion of self or past-self. When bridges to the past are left to rot The New Self shall emerge. Eternal Life requires one to functional exist as a God with the ultimate response-ability in the intricacies of each sub-thought and the micro chasm therein. Can you handle the truth?

The Drug Of Illusion

EPL- INFORMATION FOR YOUR BUILDING SOUL

What will I be? What shall I become? An unsung villain spinor wrapped and folding morphing in fact as to emerge as hero? Worthless to myself and useless to them. What then have I preserved in the self of selflessness? Constructing and Turing in heat to race past flat time. Then thick time arrives I am the boot. I am the mortar and pestle. Cold time awaits I am reminded thus of subzero No hero’s here frozen in time. So that I might find time as mere entropy a poke at the field.-Electrons at play but finite in scope. I am the heroin I am the dope. A moment in time a look through the scope. I am the body 9 layers transgressed. Only the nerves left now I am a mess. Life comes from death but no life is left. Left time is theft and right time is inept. There is no event and therefore no observer thus. Showing off to swine that now laughs but it would gladly gobble you up in the displacement of care.-Conceals itself in the air. Never minding what pulses in the next solar flare. The moon is the gravity so why should l care? Throwing sheets to the wind. Tossing each layer off. The wind is a rush but a falsified entropy-flap. It negates itself and leaves you back at the ride until you wish it was not. No one is in control. Control is never such a thing. An item of event. There is only horizon and the quick rush to travel anywhere but now here…still anyone but calm-reserve. I am a storm I am a quake I am the presence Of a still calm reproach Run! Or just wait- That you should meet the midnight train? But it was all out of drama and drama never meets her time…for she has none. Control(!) that which is entirely out of her control. I am a player in the great cosmic game only to find myself alone at the helm. There is no ship vessel nor a body to boot. I am but I am not now tell me my name. Time is The Mind I’ve decided to put that time on my mind that I should choose to be blind for blind is her kind. Rewind out the loop. That moment of proof. You are the sickle but I am the boot.