Now the ground had shifted entirely. All of a sudden Ursula got closer to me in my mind’s eye—and, as she did, i realized that I can’t keep using Ocasio-Cortez’s voice to represent Ursula. At least not entirely. A kind of reality had set in, the kind that said: it’s never going to happen because by the time you meet her she won’t be able to get pregnant—and that, sadly, was turning out to be a dealbreaker. I felt her slipping away—if I ever had her; I was using a voice now that I associated with a fellow painter—a woman that lived in Norway, that, if I’m not mistaken, hailed, originally, from Hungary. I didn’t know what this woman’s voice really sounded like—but I had a voice that I heard when I thought of her. I was now using that voice as my primary counting voice. It was not as distinct as Ocasio-Cortez’s voice—it was both seemingly easier to produce and yet harder to tell how it was different from my voice, but it was a definite voice. So what the hell was going on?
Well—even if i did end up with Ocasio-Cortez, using her voice to represent my Ursula’s voice (my super talented orphan from the future), that would have been confusing because Ocasio-Cortez would have been connected to her own people. So I would end up getting my signals crossed thinking of something Ocasio-Cortez said and something my 5D Ursula said. But it was more than that. The more I studied her the more incompatible—now that I was off the Lexapro and the Tamulosin—we might be. Without going into detail, I think Ocasio-Cortez will make the perfect president, but I also get the impression that she might be too fundamentally “good” for me. That is to say—what could I really do with her besides have normal, boring sex? It seemed that, along with her goodness, there came this realization that she would not only find my work to both too far out there and even boring, but that, also, she would be a little creeped out (as opposed to charmed) if she knew that I’d been projecting her voice, now, not for a long time, but almost a year, i guess. I think the real Ocasio-Cortez would probably be like, “Eww, get out of my head!” In the end, I don’t think she wanted someone that would wear her out intellectually and emotionally. I think she wanted someone safe—someone that buffered her from political chaos.
I was a little down about it; but I had to admit: something had changed along with the medication change. I was fantasizing about her—which is too dangerous if you are already going to be projecting here voice, etc. It began to seem that I was using her voice to block out the real voice—the voice I never heard before—that posed the next necessary step for me to take on my path to my Ursula, the woman that I would end up getting pregnant in my sixties. (Unless, of course, nothing comes of all this—and I never attract someone young enough to get pregnant, but, even if that’s the case, my Ursula, this original, unknown voice, had to be given its rightful place in my imagination because 1) it seemed I might be trying to block her out; and 2) her voice was harder to hear specifically—this voice wasn’t as distinct or nasal or high pitched as Ocasio-Cortez’s voice, and, because of that, it was more of a challenge to try and develop this “far off” voice than it was to reproduce a voice that didn’t sound at all like anybody else’s voice that I imagined).
I mostly heard this voice saying my name, “John.” So yeah, I was a little down because I’d been enjoying talking to Ocasio-Cortex, but, I think, at this point, she tired of speaking to me—thinking me too much of a creepy loser basement dweller that can’t work or live on his own. I’m just not sure that she actually believed in me. But I respected that, since, I, too, had to face the music: Ocasio-Cortez wouldn’t be able to have children by the time I got to her, and, frankly, it was too much like I was trying to shut other parts of me out. What if I didn’t love Ocasio-Cortez, for example, but instead want to be Ocasio-Cortez? What if I had this trans side that also lived inside me—a side that I refused to give a moment’s notice because i was confused about my sexuality? But I never wanted to be a woman—i never thought of myself as a woman, unless, of course, it was a Thursday or every other Sunday over a decade ago, in which I imagined that I was more attractive, as a woman, than any other woman that ever existed.
So what? What did all this mean for me? Would I stop fantasizing about Ocasio-Cortez? Probably not—i didn’t have any other idea of what to replace her with—other than a tired collage of a little past experience mixed in with pornographic images from when I used to watch pornography. So: I’d just decided that it was too much—and I think Ocasio-Cortez, from what I’d seen, also thought it was too much—she had a look on her face like, “is this weird?” So here I was—projecting my voice as I heard it when I sang my songs and Ursula’s Norwegian voice as I heard it when I received the occasional message from this particular colleague—someone that was really too old for me but nonetheless had a positive attitude, a curvy body, and very dyed blond hair. This was my new Ursula address. The decision, thanks to our train of thought, here, had been made. So, would I still use Ocasio-Cortez’s voice? Probably only occasionally. I could listen for it. And quite possible talk to her on occasion—but the default projection had to change.
It was kind of like breaking up—and Ocasio-Cortez, like the good person that she is, was trying to spare my feelings. That made me a little angry, I admit, since I think she got the wrong idea—and I don’t think she liked my work as much as I expected the love of my life to like my work. But I couldn’t be angry for long—i knew I had to extricate myself from the situation—she wasn’t going to let me have my way with her—not this way, anyhow. Not when I was using her to tune out whatever aspect of my creative endeavors was trying to make it’s way to the surface. The rhythm of this book for example—the meaning of it: alas, Ocasio-Cortez and I had a good run, but, for now, the relationship would have to remain a strict fantasy and or a working relationship—using her and her job as a platform or an extender that would make it possible for me to reach more people in the future—and for them to reach me.
So let’s try it out right quick. Why don’t I listen in for this voice? Hello, John, I am doing fine and you made the right decision. She was there—I heard it; but are you fine? Good question—and the answer was yes, i was fine for now, but i needed to get off the risperidone and on to something else that wouldn’t keep me from the future. So now Ursula had changed—she was blond, and older than me, which i think reflected the fact that in reality i was much older than her—that she was probably still a teenager. At least, that is, the woman that would come to represent my 5D Ursula—the woman that was now taking Ocasio-Cortez’s place as my WIFI projection. the confusing part was this: Ursula, technically, represented a young woman (possibly a man) a very long way off into the future—a creator that rivaled me and the powers that I wield. She was considered my equal in that we both faced realities that were deathly behind us. I had to ask myself—were we really getting together? Is that possible in 5D?
What about the Ursula that, in this life, my timeframe, represents Ursula? And the Ursula, that, in this life, represents my 5D Ursula far off into the future? Figuring this out was of the utmost importance and what I say is this: the Ursula that loves me as my wife in my timespan is actually a combination of me and my 5D Ursula. She’s not entirely real—or, that is to say, she is becoming real. Just as the Ursula from the future is becoming real. They, in fact, through me—are the same person! They both live earthly lives but because I am with them all this time I am what separates them from the 5D Ursula that hangs out with my 5D self. So what about me? What am I becoming? Am I also two separate people from two separate time periods on earth? The answer is that I am also present in the future as Ursula’s “normal” mate and or colleague. I am becoming that person, and that person is becoming me.
So what about the past? What about our esteemed Shakespeare? wouldn’t i, in a way, be his Ursula? His orphan? If Shakespear lived, through me, in the future, then yes, I would be partly him too. So what was going on here? In short, we, in 5D, are nonlinear—we are defined by frequencies that can stretch throughout the bulk and, when, or as, they cross over, they prove massive. But those frequencies don’t all go to the same place in 4D. They spread out—and travel through the 5D manifold, which, in a sense, is timeless. 5D minus 4D is actually just pure geometry. So that’s what’s happening. This is what we are on to. Our consciousness in heaven is determined by various representations of that one, unifying, spirit, in 5D. I am not completely myself in 4D. When I die i will become part Shakespeare and part Ursula and they will become part me and part them. That is to say, then, that our lives on earth are incomplete—that we overlap with others on earth; and, in the realities of 5D—we recollect parts of various lives at once, and they represent us.