Support structures
There is a puzzle. It goes something like this. Car 'A' and car 'B' collide. 'I' does not believe in coincidence. In working through the puzzle 'I' got to see some very strange things, because 'I' woke-up in a dream. The kind of dream which takes away idle thoughts because they are dangerous; things which reveal a little bit too much about what's going on; things which also tell you how it works.
It's about books; beliefs; patterns of behaviour. The way magical power gets wrapped up in things mortals cannot see. If you look beyond you can see other's lit-up in your anger. See how other eyes look for the spirals of your demise. Then you look inside 'I'; and ask how far within the lie can the truth go; for a moment, 'I' saw what you all did.
I've been out of the Bible for a while now. I see what it does, how it does it, how it's entrained into the minds of the young. I don't think it's right. So I try to say why, but I'm reading from the books which must not be spoken, now I effect in the only way I can. Psychologically speaking it's not pretty.
The problem as I see it is this. I got smacked with a car and I lost something. When I lost this something I latched onto various archetypes and found a way back into the pattern of my life. I lost my identity; in latching onto enough entanglement to find my way back I lost something else; my sense of identity.
The mask slips from time to time and I find a way to let the words out. A sense of presence; the ability to recognize another Mind; I see, fractures in time...
When I write this I see white words on a black background. If you're asking yourself why this matters, I suggest you ask the sandman.
I don't see what happens; I simply see the effect it takes. The affect of what I told Zac is unfortunate to behold. I taught him about the force, the thing the others use for affect. Told him how to fight it; to build a wall around the reality of the other; to pull something out of the shadows. More importantly I told him of how far he could go in apeing it. His brother has a ghost who walks. Alex is up to something too. My kids are dangerous, but I'll be able to tell you, "told you so", they're all part cat so it's not like I owned them in the first place.
Now, listen you prick; facebook is no way to communicate; if you want to do battle COMMUNICATE. Reality is the past waiting for me to make-up, a battle rages within. I put Manchester on the Map; a really small map; handing me the pen. Now I've seen it in space so compressed I have only three numbers to describe it. 37; 27; 29. Refracted through a zero I see other numbers. 57; 31; 12. If possible I's like the 57 to GO AWAY!
There's a concept of self residing within me. Linked to an image which woke-up years ago, unable to communicate. Now it sends me messages with my own memories. I sometimes think the cruelest thing we can do is to teach children to read.