“What are you thinking?” I asked. I’m thinking about gerrymandering. I was hearing some other voice after Ursula said this (in Anna’s voice—i think they both said this, as I didn’t get the distinct impression that this came solely from Anna). I don’t know about this voice—where it’s coming from, whether I can reproduce it or not, et cetera. It could be Ursula’s actual voice, guess, but it was a little too random for me to replace the mechanism i was using. I tried, for a while, to associate the voice of my Norway blond with Ursula—it’s an unknown voice that i can reproduce, but then I went back to Anna’s voice, thinking, at that time, that time apart was unnecessary. But that wasn’t the voice I heard—anyhow, time would tell. If i kept hearing this voice, then perhaps I was on to something new; but, for now, I thought it best to stick with Anna’s voice—the voice I’ve been using to talk to Ursula all along.
We love each other that seemed to come from Anna, not Ursula, and i imagine she was talking about her boyfriend—which was fine—the only problem was that Ursula, at this time, was who I wanted to talk to. Why couldn’t I focus on that? But I suppose the fact that Anna was still talking to me was a good sign—I did think she was going to be the next president. But I found myself attracted to someone else, now. So it wasn’t as much fun to talk to Anna. She was a link to the future, however; i imagined that, through her voice I was basically downloading information from the future—information that i could use in my creative endeavors, so it was important to speak with her—even if she was speaking on her own, without overlapping with Ursula.
Now you have me on the line and I was relieved, because that was Ursula. You’re going to have to work hard. I think she was talking about my math book—that was my gateway to the afterlife, and, by extension, the love of my life, but I think she also meant that I was going to have to work hard to earn her companionship. Maybe she thought highly of herself—she was very beautiful and wouldn’t be able to leave the house without constantly being reminded that she’s desirable, so she probably couldn’t help thinking highly of herself. Did she mean that love isn’t enough—that if I couldn’t provide a life for her, then it wasn’t meant to be—but she was the love of my life by definition, so it was definitely meant to be—so I think what she really meant was that I would have to work hard if I wanted to have any chance of finding her in this life.
Spiritually, my math book was the most promising source of real time encouragement when it came to understanding—and getting closer to, the divine. But those endeavors had almost no chance of yielding an independent life for myself—a life in which I made my own money, enough of it to live comfortably and raise a family, comfortably. Now, since my writing, for the most part, comes from, and is meant for, a different time, i.e., the semi-commercial route, if i’m even capable of such a thing, proved incompatible with what agents are looking for, so my best chance of success seemed to come from my paintings—and yet, again, even though I was good, and I’d done over 900 of them, getting the right people behind you doesn’t always happen in our lifetime, if it happens at all, and, while I did believe that, after I left this life, my art would sell, i didn’t have a lot of confidence that anything was going to happen for me any time soon. It just wasn’t in the cards, no matter how hard i worked. That wasn’t going to change my work habits—but that was the way things were.
So what did Ursula mean by saying that I was going to have to work hard? I worked my hardest everyday—and I had been doing as much pretty consistently for several years. I couldn’t really work any harder. But the hardest thing I did every day was work on my math book—so, I considered, something about my math book was related to Ursula—I just didn’t see how that was going to lead to anything real in this life. I didn’t expect to meet someone any time soon, if ever, given the nature of my work and my chances of getting the right people behind me, so she must have been talking about establishing a more meaningful relationship in the spiritual realm. I did have hopes for a better future when it came to that—I believed I would get there, and it didn’t have anything to do with getting discovered and making money. So that must be what she was talking about—I could only hope, then, that she was content on her own; the idea of imagining her with another man was unpleasant. I figured that, if she was right for me, she wouldn’t feel right with another man. She’d choose, instead, to focus on her career.
Maybe she was an artist, too. That contrasted with this notion that I’m supposed to be with some successful woman—some woman that can’t help but make money. The more i thought about it, the more I figured that, indeed, the best way to connect with someone through my work would be if they had a special aptitude for it—if they were an artist themselves, and, well, they knew what it was like to make art anonymously, with no real hope of being discovered. That person would have a lot in common with me, and would be more likely to understand me, it seemed, so I postulated that Ursula was, in fact, an artist in her own right. This was a little bit of a breakthrough, for me, as, to date, i had no formal idea of what Ursula did for a living—once, that is, I discovered that Anna and Ursula could not be the same person.
I must be patient, then, and continue to be diligent with a math book that often requires a lot of work in order to make just a little progress in the extra-dimensional and spiritual direction. Solving the Riemann hypothesis, at least to my satisfaction, without wasting my life trying to get other people to believe that I’d actually done it, wasn’t the end game here. The end game was using the Riemann hypothesis and an understanding of the zeta zeroes to better understand physics—and, furthermore, to better understand how to communicate with the other side. That’s where this work with respect to telepathic communications would become increasingly relevant, and, hopefully, increasingly satisfying. I might, for example, find that my beliefs will improve, that my faith will improve, thanks to real, physical realities, and, as such, I’ll find myself increasingly happy—as if, for example, I was that much closer, already, in this life, to my life in the next dimension.