a little flabbergasted a little dumbstruck; what, from the future, was i going to bring the woman of my dreams? can you imagine the hatred boiling up inside me—that i had no fair shot at the American dream? i couldn’t afford, like some people, to leave the country—and, so long as my life wasn’t threatened, i wanted to remain in a place that i belonged—such as my parents’ house where i could talk to Ursula as I saw fit, and, together, we could write something that people from the future might like to read. as for what i had to bring back from the future—that would have to remain a mystery until i understood more about it—and by it i mean the idea—i brought an idea back from the future.
then i got a message: a clear image of a woman—at least i thought it was a woman, wearing a cross around her neck. Nothing gaudy or ostentatious—but it seemed like some small excuse to show off her chest. i don’t know why women dress the way they do—i mean, it’s clear, you want every advantage you can get; but you want the long term advantage of being at peace with yourself—without relying on the attention of men with a one track mind. That’s what I think—but, i’d been converted, i suppose, since the display also sent another message—equally powerful. It said: i’m too good for you—and you’ll never get a piece of this! the challenge, however, sounded like an invitation.
hey, secure power any way you want: take every advantage you can i get it, this is the national football league (the NFL) and DC is rough, etc. but my Ursula was hanging tough and not afraid to go all in—if, that is, she were a poker player. But this isn’t poker we’re talking about—this is how we fight wars, now. By shaving our chests (if you’re a man) and otherwise showing off your desire to look more attractive to the opposite sex. In this day and age, the only place most people want hair is on the top of their head. Some of us, however, can’t be so lucky (or vain) and we’d rather be a bear than a lizard.
make love real again somebody—a woman, said. i don’t mean to condescend (or to elevate); i’m just telling the story. And it was a woman that said that. but was it someone else—or a different side of Ursula that i hadn’t seen before? I could only assume, however, that this person was sending me a message—and i say sent to me because, well, as a product of consciousness, i was supposed to see it. It happened—and, in this life, at least, that made it at least partially real—partially, then, a product of my path. but i think all this annoyed Ursula more than anything—she informed me that she never said, “make love real again,” that was somebody else, somebody, she said, that is a part of your life, the part of your life that i deny.
Ouch. I mean, i think she was objecting to me having a thought about someone doing street-art. make love real again—i don’t know how anybody can do that, though, when we’re wildly misinformed by our imaginations. we might think that we’re up on some level such that, basically, the circumstances surrounding us don’t matter or count against us, such that we’ll live our whole lives saving ourselves for someone that exists outside of our sphere: maybe we want to move in together, for example. But, Ursula and I already did that—she was a constant part of my day, and, to be sure, i was a part of her day, too. When i sent out my messages, those weren’t messages in a bottle—that was real information disseminated through the bounds a higher reality—the so called greater dimension that all of us like to imagine (when we’re not showing off) truly exists.
i wondered how many people out there, right now, were telling their landlords, “i’ll get reimbursed after the government shutdown ends.” i wondered if we pay rent in the future—or if we make mortgage payments. The answer is decidedly no. We do not. Our energy belongs to a world that provides for us; we have refrigerators—and the universe—the holograms or spirits that live in our universe and or would live in our universe if, for example, somebody passed away and their energy was lost, wanted us to be completely happy and they knew that being completely happy meant obeying the laws of the universe; food—meats, would appear spontaneously in our refrigerators because our foods were no different than our hologram friends—in 5D energy was always going out and it was always coming in. If we wanted meats, then the way to get it was by not killing a cow or a chicken; the action of not doing it created a potential that sought to please us (as the pinnacle of consciousness—as the pinnacle of the universe).