HiCAT

 

The game they play. 

The war I am in.

I had on the Republican National Convention for a bit last evening...

The RNC is having speeches...

"Yeah Trump!"

"Better economy!"

"God Bless our troops!"

...Normal shit they have been doing for all these years, pretending and bloviating...The former President was almost assassinated (and the State isn't even trying to hide they probably not only had a hand and also don't care because they understand they are at war and you don't), he's prosecuted endlessly as are regular citizens who are imprisoned today, at the States discretion of course, by State and the federal government. State run schools weaponize children against their parents...should I go on? Joe Biden threatened* US citizen/subjects with f16's and they fenced in the Capitol when they installed him...and pointed their weapons out. 

The President (for how long this this gone on and stop pretending it will always be this way) is a figure head, his team isn't really in charge. The deep State, which one? The administration/bureaucracy? Alphabet? Bankers? Something else entirely, that's worse. 

I hardly see any one with eyes open to the seriousness of the situation.

 

Vote harder, buy another gun

One day I will tell you a story

Be still and listen

The year was 2001, it was the middle of September and the twin towers had been raised. 

    The gold Mercedes sedan pulled to the gate at the edge of the bridge, two lions standing guard, two more at the other end. The driver, a soldier but not dressed as one, opened the door and stepped from the vehicle and the warm salty air about to turn met the cold recycled conditioned air. The passenger, a young woman opened her window so she could hear the men, "the mirror sees where we can't." She would have called him Captain obvious but the boy was all but 19 with 3 stripes and an important roll to play, he was guarding important things. Everything had changed since she had last traversed this bridge, the gate now active and the uniform was now all business. The war business looked fresh on the guard but it had always been at hand.

    The year was 2002, it was some time in February that seemed to have drawn on to March. We had to make our way to the embassy again, another interview for another stamp by a person we would meet again down the road in another land across a sea, for another stamp. An impediment of bureaucracy had kept us long but the importance of the trip, the diplomacy involved and the package more precious than most could grasp. Then went boom and we were whisked away to our gated haven, all stamps instantly approved.

    The year was 1996, it was a hot June day, I had just dropped him off at the terminal where they would take flight, have a stay in Khobar, then off to war.

    The year was 1991, it was a cool January day in Florida, we had had word that it would be quick and then done. 

    The year was 1979, it was November in the Middle East and the Sultans birthday was upon us. The air filled with out bursts of brain storms, dry of ideas and whispers of plans inside plans. The guard at the gate had help now as the 3 buildings that towered him had trained marksmen upon them. The thump, thump, thump, of the Hueys in formation flew over on schedule, morning, noon, and night. In the late after noon you could sometimes smell the metal in the air and taste of iron on your tongue. 

    The year was 2010, 

it was early June,

 the rumble of the rocket reverberated through the air 

as it hit the helicopter in mid air. 

They didn't all die at once, 

he had to wait for death.

    

The year is 2024

 you are in a war.

The State is at war with the people

It is a soft war

It is a hard war

It is an in-between war

It is an information war

It is a communications war

It is a war on your sovereignty 

It is war on your health

It is a war on your children

It is a war for families

It is a war for your ability to say no

act like it.

Star Date: Sixteen, Seven, Twenty Twenty four

 

The word we weave we spell we plan and we pray time will tel

into the mist round to spin 

feel the soft wet upon your skin

the sky falls dark 

her 

not there

a soft glow of gold holds you in the air

you can feel the lift of the wind that binds you 

every movement tethered to find you

all the eyes see through the wind 

8 legs feel

it's time to start the end

Be still and listen 

One day I will tell you a story

Always dressed to fit in she weaved her way through the grounds 

on a thread not to be found silent up and through the trees and then back down

she did sweetly sit upon his knee with out an earthly sound she sang

a song for none before her till the time was done it would wait to be heard as one

Kinematics

 

Please always forgive my oddity here and there for the share is better with bits of flair; always have your rockets take off at night unless they are that which are the light.

May I take the bull by the horn?

The Position

A red cape floated waving in the air.

"You see patterns where others don't"

- Eric Weinstein 

on Joe Rogan 

to Terrance Howard.

You must put your imagination level flush to fantastic please, science fiction parallel, graci. 

...

The Velocity

I don't know what the year was, women wore dresses and men wore suits, side walks were swept and books were kept, I'm not even sure how many languages were spoken, Greek and Latin was alway a token. 

The floors were smooth and milky with marble of gold flushing through and they radiated a coolness. The chairs and lounges had arms made of dark carved wood and velour, colours of a halcyon in a pressed pattern. The air was fresh but some how smoke would waft and leave no mark, there was a vibration in the air of a musical tone, not drums or electric, a sound you could only feel. The hushed voices of aww, delight and confusion filled the empty space. 

A complicated problem at hand in this year as information that was born long ago had been validated to be true. Histories retold as the real world of fiction was about to explode for a lie they had been stold. 

"Where to begin is always a question of time."

The men and women in the room were an array of sorts but all had one thing in common, they believed, had knowledge, and also understood. They wore robes of black, one red, and another brown, others white, some had their head covered, turbans, yamaka, habits and more, some no faces could be seen, and then another a mask of metal draped across her eyes and nose with eyes black as coal. Then there were still more, a woman in a mans suit, woven brown with treads of orange, and then there was a man with swords and a dagger shaped of a dragon, draped across his waist, his arms comfortably at rest upon them. 

1"How do we teach the world this?"

                        6"What access do we have to each individual on the planet?"

                4"Eyes with which to see and ears with which to hear."

                        6"What access do they have to each individual on the planet?"

                    5"They can reach everywhere, anywhere." 

                            7"How long do we have?"

                    5"Time and space doesn't exist, you do though and you don't too."

            3"If we could get into the minds of...everyone."

1"What if we could impress upon the mind through the eyes..."

1"The printing press."                    

                    5"We have wave/matter access now."

                                            11"We knew long ago to keep track of old ways, capture the books until the time of the day. Here we are upon us a time, we thought mythical stories we had it wrong in our minds."

                                    9"We need to put the lines in the sun, keep them apart from the sum.  Know that evil is real as well as we know the Good."

1"Communication system with branches that have different capabilities/reaches, we still have to work in parameters of our own knowledge while we work beyond how we know. Nothing is what we thought it was."

                    5"Evil exists, it will grasp you as we walk our paths to meet back up, none of us, even the most wise can understand what that is until that moment. It will touch you." 

...

The old ways are deep in the threads and we can unwind them and put them back together.

...

What might have been 600 years later or maybe even just 6. 

"Everything is touching because all waves are connected as a vibration through time." "What if you could really learn through osmosis." "That would be a neat trick, I hug you and learn maybe not everything about you but pertinent information." "What if we could hook up every typewriter and see what it said, every word sketch on paper ever query in the air..." 

"How the sun waves travel through the skin and light our minds eye."

                            7"fast thinkers, all the libraries of every thought through time."

1"why"

                            7"So we can control what they see and hear."

The Acceleration 

                    5"What about mind trigger, we have wave/matter access now.""

...

 The old ways are deep in the threads and we can unwind them and put them back together.

...

Simple connecters you are aware...I just like to put it out there for my Self to See as well, because many minds gathered are more knowing than one.

What satellites do in orbit, is relay information on a controlled level. I know you know this, please hang on. The Inter-net is a connective path way into other peoples thoughts/ in to the human mind- grasp that for its complexity. 

May I intercept this thought and insert that the google algorithm which youtube is part, which is Alphabet and nothing exists in true* form with out the States approval. The military industrial complex is multifaceted and not always State approved, but always approved by the State. 

Let me go back to the Inter-net

Knowledge is power, whether knowledge of land when farming, the sea when sailing, or precise language in coding. There is also knowledge over others when information is hidden from them to manipulate them, or strategically doled out depending on the want of out come or the experiment of just wanting to see what one will do, like a mouse in a cage, we've all been played. Where is the understanding?

...

"You see patterns where others don't"

- Eric Weinstein 

on Joe Rogan 

to Terrance Howard.

.

Eric Weinstein, friend of infamous others, MIT mathematician with an interest in dimensional space; The Theory Everything: Geometric Unity (those that thought themselves peers laughed at him) once a managing director for Thiel Capital, member of the Galileo project...

"I wanna design a skatepark around these."

"Yeha...those sharp surface things are gonna get people fucked up."

"Yeah!"

Slight pause

"How ya doin' Eric?"

"Alright Joe, you?"

Terrance in the back ground away from the mic making a bit of noise...

"This is the hard part for me."

"This is the fun part."..."Watching you squirm."

...man giggling, "This is an elaborate hoax."

"My whole life is an elaborate hoax."

"add A to itself, Terrances root x D = C", now I'm trying to make crazy ass shit happen out of this math you have presented me; it's the other way around. "Terrance X, Terrance root, Terrance square."

"Multidimensional space"

"The non linear encodes the linear"

Eric on Joe is a limited hang out. 

This was four hours and a bit of a Joe Rogan show, if Joe Rogan is enjoying himself on his program it's usually about a three hour show, and Joe was not...active let's say in the discussion, mostly it was Eric and Howard, an actor...

"You wanted to have fun and you wanted a show and you got big"-Eric

"That's why you are here big daddy."-Joe to Eric 

"We have a crisis where people don't know what to believe."

...acceleration of any unknown parts of the system 

can be determined...

for further details, see analytical dynamics.

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

  

"Here, take this golden chain, links bound with out a mark and don't let go; the pathways are plenty with tined forks of three, dark and foreboding. This golden chain will guide you so when you get to what you think is the end you can grab the bull by the horn and make your way back, or perhaps you go deeper..."

"This journey many travel, most come back and forget, then go on with their lives or they pretend what they saw was not real. Then there are the others."

Mortals think on only one level.

St Benedict

I write in a state of disappointment in man kind. 

I look around at the world, this earthly plane, I see rot draped in goodness and rot draped in goodness plastered with badges of lies. I see envy and blame being taught by and to every tom dick and harry. People that pray in the way ofor the unborn are prosecuted and abortion is glorified in Truth. If you ask why, most make excuses if they call themselves by ways of the Sons name. I know I say it often but government agencies poison actual real peoples bodies, minds, and souls with pharmaceuticals and chemicals they say are safe, mental health treatments that make most at best weak and pathetic, easy to manipulate, as they feed you evil over airwaves. What do you do with a mass of people that are so lazy and unlikable because they weare told they weare special and people are kind. 

I hear 'stop being divisive' but sadly people were pushed out overton windows, defenestrated if I may, when they were told to put masks over their faces because some one else was made to be scared, or helpful in the most tyrannical way and they still don't see themselves having any need to change...because they repeat, the science changed; it's insufferable, disingenuous, and yes, evil, haven't you noticed, healthy* people are dropping dead after getting this magical elixir brought to you buy pick you corporation that never pays a price, "Oh, did you hear about the new shot?! You just lose weight, you don't have to do anything. All you do is take this shot for the rest of your life on a whatever bi basis, yeah so you lose bone density, the earth is ending anyway you should look good while it happens...oh, yeah your food just sits in your stomach and rots there for days because your intestines have been paralyzed or whatever"...sounds fun and please don't kink shame. 

We speak of kindness but this system fines and declares a felon the corporation of Boeing...for the deaths of how many hundreds of people and not one executive will go to jail for saving $ on a screw. Not one real live person will be punished appropriately, the head of the whole shibang...whateves bitchs. 

What breaks my heart the most is those that see the way and walk from it or preach away from it. One day let us speak of humane and inhumane and mayhaps you will See on different planes. 

Meanwhile in low earth orbit...it's too late, read the ahead, war is above and all around. 

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

I recall days long in time where they taught of fire you could not extinguish, it draped the sky and lit the earth, the water all did turn red. The passion of Her Sacred Heart, from which all graces flow. 

here I come,

come one,

come none,

for naught if zilch

where I See in the firmament

another bites the dust

down under

here I levitate 

in your dreams

I catch you through the seams

beams of blue and green

with waves of dread

The screaming of humans with flesh of fire is a sound not to be written, almost a vacuum of space, time always wants to forget. 

The year was 2024 and there was war everywhere where people could ignore. 

She was wearing loose over alls the colour of a deep sea before a storm, a garden worker uniform, short unfussy hair with grey at the sides, with poppy red boots made of rubber to protect her feet from the rebel that is terra. A bead of water she could feel, as it balanced on a few hairs on her left ear. 

PAX

C

C   S   S

N  D  S  M  D

P   M  B

L

Pure of heart I knelt and said the sacred words from my head

through arches of time we walk a circle in a fine line

Thank you God for all you have given

I pray the seeds sewn find the light and reach the heavens

 

Matryoshka

 

The old crow cawed 

A stream of stars

A coo from the dove

do you know how many wars they fight above

below

all around you

I wish to say I want to be above the fray 

alas I have to bray I'm here to stay

Till time it ends and then begins

I chose right now

an electric sin

I once did say

a mess you did make

rot all around

death you can not shake

After the fall

of pin prick pals

poison seeps

come one

come all

A1

Holy ка̏моли

To say nothing of....

Here I list, 

it's the old slavic way

The things they* say you should not talk about because they are distasteful is what you should talk about. 

Why do people murder

Why do people maim

Why do people ignore the tyranny and the lore

Why do things happen the way they do

it's kinematics and it's up to you

 

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

mothers watch

shiva stalks

 

Meaning Not Matter

 

The hall smelled dusty and old, not like leather bound books but of layers of dirt gathered over the years with path ways rats made to get here and there. Her black and white oxfords tied tightly around her feet, she moved through the corridor as if none of it existed but her. She wore fitted pants, that landed 3 inches above her ankle, the colour of a jungle floor that hasn't seen the sun since the trees began and a t-shirt, black, always dressed to fit in just in case someone catches a glimpse of layer of space that hardly a one and zero is no sum knows exists. The door way was wide open, she could hear the sound of a deep throated sleep and as she got closer, the aroma of disinfectant started piercing her nostrils, with a hint of North Indian curry in the air. The old Witch crow walked through the door way, grounded to terra but levitating just above, and there she was, her suit a pale beige, boring and nondescript, a cover for the skin of a dead woman on a short break of policy making to cull a disease. The short blond hair, coiffed in a style of curlers and fuss, cocked to the left, her neck loose in a dream state...In front of the woman, that seamed layers of skin sewn together to make a kin was on a desk, paper upon white papers with writing the meaning not matter.

The old Witch crow 

with silver at her tips did the whisper

in the ear of Ursini's cocked head

the name from deep in the sea

she did hear

a number it may be

down stream bear the child's cry

when thy close thee eyes

a dread to recall till the time

as heaven meets earth

a fold in space

time is 

now

The rain hit the ground with a soft pat pat pat as the air cooled around her, flowing faster and faster until it looked still.

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

Praenomen

 

Into the flow  

she pushed and swam

turned upside down 

letters in the sand

Can you feel the rush of the silky cold water against your skin, there is a space if you can find it in the down ward stream where electricity flows up ward, there you can See to the below but do not go, take your know in to the flow with wings a spread and knowledge of the dread, and with that spread of the dread some will find the truth unread, and flow they will go up into the know with no dread to tread 

how to say it

she spun and she spun

use old names

bring the dead

this month of July

 Qayser the name

Let me tell you a story so old, of One so large, thought to be half god, tested was he by Hera of the dead as he stepped upon a cancer when it pinched at his toes she gave it a place amongst the stars, why did she hate him so...the story so old.

here in this v fire I give birth 

and name you

and name you

and name you

under the light of the Moon 

in the shadow of the Sun

names will be done

the precious blood of your messiah 

The bull offers the lamb to the hydra