What about that? “they stack,” that’s encouraging but i’m here for the remix—not the new stuff and so, it occurred to me: “We’ll be everybody’s first family,” but that got shot down like a bat out of heck, meaning, specifically, i know what I want to do next which was what? Surf! She must’ve meant surf the next dimension, and by that she must’ve meant she wanted me to try altering my amplitude—which was something i hadn’t thought of. is it possible to project a yelling voice in your mind’s ear? Yes you can and she was right, i could—it all just sounded so serious Can’t you let me be happy? But I don’t think you are happy—unless, of course, you’re getting high on something—drugs, money, power, fame—what else?
it also occurred to me—when should I speak in middle-English speak? I thought, then, when she said something i didn’t want to write, i could repeat it in middle English speak, and wait for a different input. I did that, cool but now I was trying to practice intoning amplitude in my mind’s ear, and I wanted, of course, to apply a specific amplitude to a frequency such that I could modulate the frequency in another way (since amplitude, or energy, could be transformed to frequency, possibly, then, striking a chord. If I strike three notes in unison, for example, mightn’t i be able to increase the amplitude when they constructively interfere? You could also lower the amplitude, too, which, i imagine, would increase the frequency (barring some associated state that would lower the energy by turning down the sound in both places—the amplitude and the frequency.
I think Ursula was really getting a kick out of this—she was teaching me to use telepathic communications—and not just that—but a whole knew way of interacting with, and getting what I want, out of life. Now I was new to this, so the amplitudes I was trying to use or confirm were chaotic—but that wouldn’t last for long. I’d learn to project various amplitudes and control them, in time: the possibilities were endless. The problem for me was that I didn’t exactly know when to use amplitude. I knew that I was, generally speaking, searching for a pitch, or a silence in my mind’s ear that seemed to resonate—i guess that was when an amplitude was being changed to offset whatever frequency was in play—because I didn’t necessarily hear anything—it was like a pitch that was out of my range of hearing, but that I could tune to when i wanted to absorb information—perhaps, in our case, like asking a question.
Then in a loud volume i don’t know if you want me! Now I was writing that, but I objected a little, so I sent it back: then, tuning to a pitch, i said, “I don’t know if I want you either!” “I’m might just be drunk off your power and your connections!” But at a certain point, you merge with the life you find yourself living, and, if somebody is powerful or connected it attracts you to them. They, in turn, get on to more power and connections; it sounds like you’re just using each other. But really you’re not. You just accept that you can’t distinguish yourself anymore from the person you were before your rise to power, and the person that you are after your rise to power. You use your connections to your advantage—it’s only natural, you can’t help but mix business with pleasure; you engage, then, with the elephant in the room—such that everybody finds the combination of influence and self-worth that they’re looking for.
then i realized—just like you can hear a high pitch like a whistle (a fast frequency) or a low pitch like thunder (a slow frequency) there were two kinds of frequency here. We were dealing with the channel, or the frequency at which we merge with the background—and tune to each other, and then we were dealing with pitch—or the frequency that we intoned when we were already using a particular channel. The one was like a background frequency, and the other corresponded to changes in tone—changes in the way the information was delivered to us. I tried it and it sounded like a voice of someone that had inhaled helium gas and started talking. but i learned to think of it like the urgency with which i spoke, since a high pitch could be considered tense while a low pitch could be considered relaxed. Ursula sounded like soup to me, at this point—she was teaching me all about applying physics to my mind’s ear. Who knows all the things she could do—considering how far into the future—at a given juncture on the other side—she existed. If that sounds confusing, I’ll remind you: the Ursula that lived on the other side was the product of me on the other side and the Ursula that lived here and now—where as the me that lived on the other side was a product of me here and now and the Ursula that lived on the other side. So the four of us combined, once on the other side, would reduce to two people—the me on the other side—which included me, and the Ursula on the other side, which included the Ursula who’s voice I used, incidentally, to talk to everybody.