you can turn the light off in the kitchen it will save power; well, i saw some images that might’ve been harmful if i wrote about them, so I inferred that Ursula wanted to talk about something private. something that wouldn’t go in this book as is. Now, since I had specifically addressed Ursula and then these images appeared, i concluded that, at least in part, the two things were related—even if only by their proximity in my mind. then my 5D me said, He moved to New York to be with her; so I had some notion that Ursula felt bad because of that—because she’d invited him to live with her, and, now, after all this time, she wanted to break up with him. but what was even more private than that? without betraying Ursula, i can say that the way she felt about her relationship was complicated, and there was no easy way to extricate herself from the relationship. Maybe she was worried that this would be the end for real—she couldn’t go back to him a second time after breaking up with him twice and postponing the wedding.
i don’t want to marry him) except she kind of did—but she also kind of didn’t, so, really, she didn’t, and that was always going to be between them—the idea that he loved her more than she loved him. Maybe she didn’t want me to say that? She didn’t want her boyfriend to get hurt (if it ever occurred to him to read this book—which it wouldn’t except under impossible circumstances, and, if Ursula left him for me, well, if I were him, then I would have no interest in prolonging a painful situation unless I was more interested in telepathic communications that I thought. But then he might start talking to Ursula, or imagining he’s talking to Ursula, get diagnosed schizophrenic, and, for all intents and purposes, find himself chemically castrated).
Anyhow, I told her something that I wouldn’t make public, and then she told me something that i wouldn’t make public, and i think it brought us closer together. I could tell that some things weighed heavily on her at times, things that had to do with her relationship and its ups and downs—negotiating a long distance relationship—i guess she was in DC quite a bit—was difficult, if not frustrating and a cause for an argument that might otherwise have not taken place (since neither party was getting exactly what they wanted). that’s enough. So i changed the subject. But then it was me on the other line: you’re art matters; you’ve been discovered. Everything was falling into place, a little at a time, in my life, and I had some reason to believe that my paintings would be valuable to others in my lifetime.
i’m so happy for you and, you know, one thing leads to another and then me chipped in, you’re writing, at some point, will be read. So i was getting everything i wanted on this particular day—a sign (from God) that my work would be preserved. that i, indeed, would have considerable influence after I rejoindered with my 5D self. this wasn’t just me making fun of myself or using some small part of myself to make fun of others; it was also very real for me; I practiced what I preached, and the telepathic future, indeed, was a frontier that I would be recognized for. I was just talking about God the other day—and how I don’t believe that he’s a real person, but today, i was getting encouragement and validation—hope, and a light at the end of the tunnel. seeing an older blond, now, comparing the US to Nazi Germany, which, 80 years ago it might’ve been. She looked older than her face—and parts of her face looked like they were stretched a little tighter than other parts of her face—so i told Urslula, “that’s what I have to look forward to if I choose, in general, a blond.” someone that might never love me, and, also, someone that felt the need to prove that they were very intelligent—that they could keep up with me, that I would rub off on them, and they could be the person (out there) that they’d always wanted to be, perhaps entirely independent of me. But I wasn’t going to be somebody’s pathway to money, power, and fame, and I don’t think Ursula was going to be that, either. Now, i might find a blond with a heart of gold at some point—but no such person existed in Ursula’s position of power, which, for me, was thrilling. I’d decided, long ago, to give her a chance, and, now, look at me – i didn’t want a movie star.
So what happens, you ask, if a woman comes along, a little younger than Ursula, perhaps, with blond hair, blue eyes, a heart of gold, and, as such, a presidential candidate? Would i leave Ursula for that? I couldn’t say, exactly, which is the truth—that all depended on my relationship with Ursula—if i was happy with the directions we’d taken, and i didn’t want to face setbacks, and lose that position, that presence in space that I’d worked so hard on. Anyhow, you look exactly like you’re supposed to look in heaven; you can change some aspects of your appearance if you want to, but you don’t feel the need to, because, as it happens, you are loved. if you love a brown person you love their narrative—they have something raw that you can’t find amongst the privileged—blonds with blue eyes, for example. That’s not to say you can’t love the narrative of a blond; it just means that you depend, more, on brown leadership—because, without it, you wouldn’t feel truly alive.