The Universal Language of Light.

One day – in the not so very distant future – even my vision will seem “normal” in the eyes of the world.

Le Paradis is a 100% fictional work, touching on many issues in today’s French Polynesia: poverty, wealth, ecology, mythology and the conservation of culture and tradition (au sujet de la pauvreté, de la richesse, de l’écologie, des légendes, et de la conservation du patrimoine culturel).

It is my hope that this work will evoke interest regarding both the threats and consequences of modernisation, ecological disasters and materialism for delicate small societies outside the mainstream political, economic and cultural structures propagated by the large and powerful countries of the world. Many of these “peripheral” societies are struggling to maintain their traditions and cultural specificities. I would further venture to suggest that we who live in the large agenda-setting centres of modernisation, military and economic power and globalised culture have much to learn from these small societies in the far corners of the world, and that the survival of the Earth itself may be contingent upon a willingness to learn simpler and more holistic and interpersonal approaches to life, culture and spirituality.

This time I have chosen French Polynesia as the geographical/cultural entity that serves as a background for the abovementioned message; however, it could just as well have been another set of islands, or another remote society.

Photos by Adam Donaldson Powell

An excerpt from “Le Paradis”:

TAHITI

Part two / 2ème Partie -Tales and poetic homage about / Contes et hommage poétique concernant Tahiti

Part two / 2ème Partie – chapter one: thoughts of Moruroa (“the place of the big secret”)

It had been two years since Erita’s husband (Mana) had died of cancer. He had been working on the atoll of Moruroa during the last round of French nuclear tests in the region. He was but one of many Polynesians who had suffered the effects of the testing; many of whom still die today – the worst part perhaps being the shroud of government silence and secrecy that had surrounded the tragedy for so many years. And now, the once idyllic paradise of Tahiti – after several decades of being thrust into so-called modernity – was more or less a parody of much larger urban cities, complete with dependency upon tourism, loss of age-old cultural traditions and identity, social problems, slums etc.

Erita was now a 45-year-old single mother of a 17-year old son named Ponui (“the big night”). Erita supports both herself, her son and occasionally sends money to her relatives living on a more remote island. She works as a domestic at one of the luxury hotels on the island of Tahiti, both cleaning rooms and helping to prepare food in the hotel kitchen. She was lost in her thoughts about her family, preoccupied especially about her son who was left on his own much too often since she had to work every extra shift she was offered in order to manage financially. The main tourist season was – after all – the most important time of the year in terms of making money. She stood in the kitchen alone, waiting for the second shift to arrive … she was already exhausted after having worked since the early morning hours, but she was used to labouring extra hours and felt fortunate that she was generally accommodated by the management when she asked for more work.

She was doing the prep-work for “poisson cru” (a traditional Tahitian fish dish), which would be served to the tourists later that evening (together with several other local dishes: pork, taro, chicken, plantains, sweet potatoes and dessert (some French pastries and fresh tropical fruits)). The entertainment was to be a performance of Polynesian dances featuring local girls.

Erita was angry with her son, who had gotten into trouble with the local police the night before. It was nothing serious, but she felt guilty that she was so absent – especially when he was at that age, and with the many temptations of modern urban life brought on by commercialisation and tourism in Pape’ete. She was not aware that she was almost using the fish knife like a butcher knife; making hard chopping motions and sounds that were more suitable for cutting pork or red meat than fish.

“Hare Maru! (Take it easy!),” said Jeannette. Jeannette and three other women on the afternoon shift had just walked into the hotel kitchen.

Ia ora na outou” (“Hello”), replied Erita (smiling, while looking over her shoulder and wiping sweat from her brow).

“E aha to oe huru? … Comment vas-tu ? (How are you?)” asked Jeannette.

“E mea maitai au. E o oe? (I am well. And you?)” replied Erita.

“E mea maitai au. Mauruuru! (I am well. Thanks!)” replied Jeannette, smiling. The other three women nodded ‘hello’ to Erita, who smiled and greeted them in return.

“Comment allez-vous, Mesdames ?” shouted Alain, the assistant hotel manager through the doorway of the kitchen.

“Bien, monsieur. Et vous même?”

“Très bien, merci. Je rentre chez moi, et j’irai à Moorea demain,” said Alain, as he hurried past the doorway.

“Au revoir !” the women sang out in chorus.

“Au revoir! ” shouted Alain, already several footsteps down the corridor.

Jeannette walked up behind Erita and said, “Here … let me help you with that.” She took a knife and stood next to Erita, saying: “You have done a lot already! Are you a little tired today? You don’t seem your normal happy self.”

Erita forced a smile and mumbled: “I am okay. Just a little preoccupied. My son got into some minor trouble with the police last night, and today is my wedding anniversary. My husband and I would have been together twenty-one years today.”

“I understand … ” replied Jeannette. “It is not an easy life for you, my dear Erita. You are very brave to go it all alone … without a man or your relatives close by you. Have you considered getting remarried? You are still quite stunning to look at. I would love to come over one day and do your hair and make-up. And perhaps we could go out on the town afterwards?”

“Me? You must be joking,” said Erita, laughing nervously.

“I do not joke about such things, ma chère !” retorted Jeannette. “Look! We finish here in three hours. Come home with me. I can even lend you an outfit. I have something that would suit you perfectly. Our kids will be fine tonight. We could even send them to the cinema, and let them invite a few friends over to my house for snacks and soft drinks afterwards. We will certainly be back home before things get too much out of control. Besides, my son Teiki knows better than to try anything outside of the house rules – even when he is alone by himself.”

Both women laughed, attracting the attention of the other women at work in the kitchen. Erita smiled and said: “Okay. Why not? But I am not interested in meeting anyone … so don’t try any matchmaking!”

“Who, me?” replied Jeannette, with her hands on her hips. “Every woman for herself … that is my motto.”

Erita just rolled her eyes and shook her head, smiling. Both women hugged and kissed each other on the cheek. Immediately, they simultaneously broke out into a traditional Polynesian love song, and continued working.

Part two / 2ème Partie – chapter two: out on the town

They had been sitting at the bar at the dancing hall for about an hour-and-a-half when Erita got a migraine headache. She told her friend Jeannette that she has been getting them often. Jeannette asked her if she thought it may be an effect of radiation – perhaps she was suffering from radiation sickness. She mentioned that she has a cousin who was recently tested for radiation contamination after developing some strange symptoms. Erita said “no”, she usually gets them in the evenings only, and they are often accompanied by flashes of geometrical shapes that appear before her eyes, or in the distance. She added that she has often felt as if she knows things just as they are happening somewhere else.

“You mean like Déjà Vu ?” her friend asked.

“No,” replied Erita. “More like telepathy … or a kind of communication that something is happening to someone I know in some way, or is about to.”

Jeannette asked her where these migraine headaches are centred in her skull. Erita pointed to the areas corresponding to her pineal gland and hypothalamus. It was then that her friend told her her mother’s story about their Lemurian ancestors who mastered crystal-energy and telepathy and the art of flying, and that when Lemuria met its destruction many Lemurians escaped to Atlantis where they took with them their knowledge of telepathy, crystalenergy, flying and the secret keys and codes of symbols called the language of light. She continued to say: “Unfortunately, the Atlanteans went too far with their scientific investigations into crystal-energy and technology and met their own doom. However, the knowledge they possessed was not totally forgotten, and bits and pieces still survive in the many remaining and now scattered modern-day remnants of Lemuria – in the South Pacific and Australasia, South America, parts of North America and parts of India, Nepal and Tibet, as well as in cultures heavily influenced by the Atlantis civilisation. Some even draw strong parallels between ancient Egypt and Lemuria, based on use of symbols and geometry in architecture, but also because of the widespread use of telepathy and communication with the ‘other world’ – perhaps this was because both ancient Egypt and Lemuria are said to have been populated originally by beings from other star systems.”

“Typical”, said Erita, “that we again experiment with atomic energy and weapons of mass destruction. Won’t we ever learn? What is wrong with the more positive, life-asserting traditional values and culture?”

“Some say we have now come full circle, and that Lemuria will re-emerge as a continent soon. But I personally feel that the new continent of Lemuria will not be in the third or fourth dimension … but rather one place where we will ascend to when the so-called Quantum Leap has taken place,” said her friend.

“You mean after Armageddon?” asked Erita.

“Armageddon is one possibility we can create; but there are alternative options. We have free will, both individually and collectively. I would ask you Erita: do you suppose that those symbols you see are created by you and others on Earth, or do you think they are meant to be taken down through channelling for use by humans?”

“What do you mean by ‘use by humans’?” asked Erita nervously.

“I don’t know; perhaps personal development, or important communications for humanity … or even as a kind of feng shui advice,” said her friend while sipping her cocktail through a straw.

“Feng shui advice?” asked Erita, surprised and amused.

“Sure,” said Jeannette. “Geometric shapes have been used since the earliest civilisations recorded in history to influence human moods, intelligence, communication with other worlds, and comfort. This ancient science is now used widely in modern architecture.”

“I don’t know the answer to your question; I haven’t really thought about it. I guess I think that what I see are individual and collective thought patterns broken down into their basic sound and light geometrical structures, but I am uncertain as to why I see them or what I am supposed to do with them … if anything at all.”

“Have you tried using them to play the lottery?” joked Jeannette.

“No … that doesn’t sound right at all. They are very personal and spiritual for me in a way.”

“Well,” said Jeannette. “I have heard stories about the ancient Lemurians purposely developing their pineal glands to open their third eye and develop telepathic abilities. Perhaps that is what is happening to you. My mother always told me to eat a lot of fruit because she believed that vitamin C increases one’s memory and intuition. Your favourite foodstuff is fruit. Perhaps those huge doses of vitamin C are putting your brain glands in shock, which is in turn giving you headaches and hallucinations in form of these geometric images you keep seeing. I’m no doctor, but maybe you should consider …”

“Stop already, Jeannette!” interrupted Erita. “I am fine. I just work too many extra hours. I will try to cut back a bit.”

“Do you want to go home?” asked Jeannette. “It is okay if you are not feeling well.”

“Home? You must be joking! It is just a little headache … and it will go over. What I really need is to dance.” Erita glanced over at the upper-middle class man with carefully groomed white hair and imported French shoes approaching the bar, and smiled broadly.

“Excusez moi madame,” he said after noticing that their eyes had locked for a few seconds. “Do I know you from …”

“No, I am quite certain,” replied Erita. The gentleman looked perplexed by her answer … was it meant as a brush-off or was she trying to tell him that she liked the way he looked?

“My friend Erita never goes out … so she cannot possibly have met you here before. But perhaps somewhere else.”

“Chuut !” whispered Erita to Jeannette. “You are embarrassing me.”

“Nonsense,” retorted Jeannette. “Erita was just telling me that she wants to dance, but I have my eye on someone else, and do not want to seem unavailable by dancing with Erita. Perhaps you would do her the honour of inviting her for a swing around the dance floor?”

“Jeannette! Really!” exclaimed Erita. “You must not impose on this gentleman.”

“Believe me Erita, that would be no imposition … au contraire it would be a big pleasure,” said the gentleman. “And by the way, my name is Paul. My parents are both French Polynesian but my grandfather came to Tahiti from France. I am named after him.”

And with that, Erita and Paul disappeared onto the dance floor … not to join Jeannette again for another twenty minutes.

“How was the dance?” asked Jeannette. “And how was the dancer?”

“It was great to dance again … it has been years since I last danced with a man. He gave me so many compliments … on my face, my hair, my dress, my eyes. I felt like I was in my early twenties again when I was with him. He asked me out for dinner next Friday. I told him I would think about it, and that he could call me on Wednesday. And how was your beau mec ?” asked Erita finally.

“Married … just my luck. But I have had a great time sitting here, flirting with the bartender and watching your moves on the dance floor. Perhaps we should get home to the boys soon? What does your telepathy say?” joked Jeannette.

“My ‘telepathy’ is shut down for the evening,” replied Erita with slight but friendly sarcasm. “But I am tired … and curious to see what the two teenagers have been up to. So let’s go.”

They slowly walked to Jeannette’s house. It was warm outside, but there was a pleasant light breeze blowing and the streets were quiet and empty of youth looking for thrills. Both women looked marvelous in their colourful tropical flower print dresses and high-heels, but mostly because they had the most beautiful and contented looks on their faces as they walked under coconut trees and the luminescent full moon. They didn’t speak much on the way home to Jeannette, but both thought more about their conversation at the bar regarding the Language of Light and telepathy, than the dancing and flirting.

Erita’s son decided to stay over at Jeannette’s house, and Erita walked home alone. Once there, Erita felt slightly dizzy and nauseated. Had she had too much to drink? “No,” she thought to herself. “I only had two drinks the entire evening.” And then she felt the migraine at the back of her head coming on.

“Oh, dear,” she mumbled. “I had better go to bed.”

The room seemed to shift dimensional perspective. A strange beating sound – not unlike a helicopter or the beating of huge wings – drowned out all other sounds and overtook her consciousness. Everything looked and felt like it was slightly crooked and four-dimensional. Suddenly, a ball of light appeared before her forehead at the spot in between and just over her eyes; it felt as though it had burned its way through from the back of her skull. Instantly the entire dark bedroom filled up with intense white-ultraviolet light, and Erita felt herself flying through tunnels … the walls of which were lined with various geometric symbols, which opened one by one almost as lotus blossoms … into a new world which seemed vaguely familiar. It was then that Erita heard a voice that seemed to be both half-inside her head and also a direct communication that resounded: ‘Relax and let this happen. It is part of your spiritual agreement and growth. Do not be afraid. You are the keeper of these sacred symbols, and you shall hold them until the planet is again ready to understand them and take them into use. You are the new incarnation of Vaite’. Erita marveled at the experience and did not fall asleep before the early morning hours. She busied herself during the day with household chores and making food for herself and her son. As the late afternoon gave way to dusk Erita stepped outside and was amazed to see blue-white rays of light in the sky, which slowly began forming geometric symbols – much like the ones she had seen in her bedroom the night before, while in a half-asleep and half-awake state. The laser-blue symbols were vibrant against the contrasting skies, and were not pulsating but appeared one after another as flashes – not unlike a kaleidoscope. They each appeared briefly, for under a second, and they varied in size although they were quite large. She thought to herself: “It is actually impossible to say how large they really are or how far away they are, but they seem to be much closer than the stars or the Moon.”

After watching the heavenly show for about fifteen minutes, Erita went into the apartment and found some paper and a blue pencil with which to record her visions. Erita had half-expected that the symbols would have disappeared once she had returned inside, but when she returned they were in full force. She barely had time to draw one symbol before another appeared. Erita felt quite a reverence for these symbols, and felt strongly that they were both universal for all mankind and at the same time somehow personal for her – both symbols of the collective human consciousness and also cosmic information that all humans could download, use and learn from. She smiled, thinking: “This is actually a two-way dialogue. I can almost understand and communicate through my thoughts on some level – not on a regular third dimensional level, but on a higher dimensional frequency. Erita tried to turn the light show off, and then on again and quickly realised that she was in full control of this experience and could decide when she wished to see the symbols and when she did not. This reassured her: “I am not crazy; this is not a hallucination.” She discovered that it only took a few seconds to regain her focus once she had turned the light show on again.

Erita noticed that her migraine was now gone, and that she felt immense happiness and recognition in response to the symbols … almost the same feeling that she had when she met up with someone she loved very much after an absence. It was a ‘safe place’ – a place and an experience that no one and nothing could take away from her. Erita noticed after some time that certain symbols appeared more often than others, and some seemed to vibrate sound energy that she could almost hear with her ears … but not quite make out the tonalities. She began to wonder if these symbols were a ‘language’ with concrete messages to her and to mankind.

Many of the symbols were recognisable from ancient statues and from some tattoos worn by descendants of the islands (as recorded in drawings in old history books from the early stages of European colonization); others felt instinctively like they came from ancient civilizations and cultures on Earth (such as Egypt, Abyssinia, Sumer etc.) or perhaps other stars and planets.

Erita continued to record the images as best as she could – striving for accuracy, which was often difficult as there were often very small nuances and variations between some symbols. After two and-a-half hours of writing down geometric symbols, Erita returned to her bedroom and fell asleep – soon to be lost in the most extraordinary dream she ever could remember having had.

Part two / 2ème Partie – chapter three: a past life memory, and Erita’s channelled message

«You are the incarnation of Vaite» a voice in her dream repeated, «but we wish to show you another life incarnation which will explain many of your still-unanswered questions.» In an instant, Erita felt herself transported to a small rural community in another part of the world. She recognised herself as a native woman of some twenty-four years of age – in those days a fully matured woman in every respect. Erita saw how she toiled all day long, working in the hut at the edge of the jungle, harvesting crops and looking after her many children … and she also saw how saddened she was by the state of her situation. While she had no aspirations other than to be the best mother and provider and ‘wife’ she could be, she often struggled with her ‘curse’ – the misfortune of being born as a woman. She looked at the reflection of her image in the waters of the small inland pond as she bathed, cupping her breasts and shaking the water from her long dark hair. «I am a goddess», she thought.

«Why am I born into this life of servitude to men – always available at their discretion, regardless of whether I want to … or not? And why do I sense that I am more than a mere woman … and concubine» (for she was despised by the women from the upper echelon of local society who called her a ‘whore’ since she was officially a concubine and not a ‘wife’). She suffered rape and beatings, verbal and psychological abuse just as the ‘wives’ did, but the treatment she endured by the ‘fine women’ of the village was more devastating than anything else she experienced.

She suddenly remembered how sick she had become when delivering her last child (the sixth). Burning up with fever, she had begun hallucinating and speaking in tongues. The pain of conceiving had put her over the edge, allowing sacred messages known only to the highest priests to become revealed and entrusted to her. She screamed in agony and exhilaration, scaring the midwives with her incantations and descriptions of sacred symbols … and her «sacrilegious» proclamations regarding her spiritual status and the future of humanity. She was never again quite the same woman after that, and was doomed to endure the given status of whore and heretic – resulting in her being shunned by all women in the village, and abused sexually by any man who had a need to satisfy his own carnal needs and/or to punish his surroundings for whatever reason … and whenever.

Suddenly Erita saw herself at her moment of death. She saw herself clawing her way through the low jungle, crawling on her hands and knees, crying out to the Universe for salvation from a lifetime of Hell. Erita re-experienced her moment of transition – moving toward the Light and seeing several globes of light awaiting her arrival. She felt like a true goddess at that moment – she had truly come ‘home’ to her own kind, to those who knew her and who recognised her soul and her divine status.

And ‘the voice’ within and without her said: «Welcome home, Vaite. Your journey is not yet complete, but your destiny is predetermined. Just now you shall rest and become rejuvenated and rejoice with old friends – there is more work to be done, but you shall soon understand the significance of this particular lifetime and the need to learn the strength and importance of survival against seemingly insurmountable odds.»

And with that, Erita slipped out of her unusual state of consciousness to more mundane dreams … and she slept late that morning – not awakening before her son arrived home around nine-thirty a.m. They chatted quietly through breakfast, and suddenly her son looked at her intensely and asked: “You are glowing … have you met a man?”

Erita smiled and replied: “A man? I have met myself … and yes, I am glowing with happiness!”

Her son then proudly showed her his new tattoo, exclaiming that he too had recently had an experience of self-revelation: “Look here mamá. My first tattoo – I am officially embarking upon manhood!”

Erita studied the tattoo on her son’s left shoulder, while he silently awaited her reaction. Erita recognised the symbol from her seance with the ‘universal language of light’ the evening before, and smiled and then kissed her son on his forehead, saying: “You bear the hope and the Star of the future, my son.”

Copyright Adam Donaldson Powell

See also THIS EXCERPT and THIS ONE TOO!

Symbols

ABSOLUTELY AMAZING SACRED GEOMETRY!

TAKE ME DIRECTLY TO THE PRESENTING THE UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE OF LIGHT BLOG!!!

 

And thus spake AzSacra …

clouds over oslo-6

3

TRIUMPH OF LIFE: Swastika of Life vs. Swastika of Death”: SEE VIDEO HERE!

 

image

Pashupatinath

DEATH OF THE BLACK SUN: SEE VIDEO HERE!

Portrait_Azsacra

(photo courtesy of azSacra zaRathustra)

Ascension, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm.
Ascension, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm.

AMERICAN REVOLT 0 SEE VIDEO HERE!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

“THE LEFT AND THE RIGHT HANDS OF GOD” — written by Adam Donaldson Powell and azSacra zaRathustra.

Presenting the introduction to “The tunnel at the end of time” (the sci-fi novel which takes conspiracy theory and religious propaganda to their extreme … and beyond). Epic poem written by Adam Donaldson Powell and azSacra zaRathustra.

(photo courtesy of azSacra zaRathustra)

PART ONE: LEFT AND RIGHT HANDS OF THE GODS.

01

Это возникало из – за щитов …

из – за ракет, которых “там” не было сначала,

но которые будут “здесь” в конечном счёте.

Yes, the shields … humans are born with them,

much as angels are born with wings.

It is propaganda, of course …

the truth has always been an existential relativity.

Funny …

They say I am balding … getting old and senile.

But the truth is that I have always been bald.

I am “Transforma” … the symbol of the old

empire now fallen.

I am … the bearer of vision and conscience.

I am … the judge and the predator.

I am … the eagle.

We saw it coming, didn’t we “Vrebatima”?

I kept silent … and no one believed you.

But who is laughing now?

Yes, only us …

The Armageddon was inevitable …

We needed it, and so we created it.

But it is only illusion …

Только иллюзия.

02

No illusions!

No delusions!

We knew only the Truth of Destruction!

We – Über! … and my one-legged

father taught me only how to kill:

kill Buddha!

kill Hitler!

kill yourself!

my mother – Nothing, but older

and more sorrowful …

my father – Nobody, but more merciless

and sadder …

Look: my daughter goes from Emptiness

to Emptiness in order to kill every tear

before her birth:

And now Absence doesn’t cry anymore,

Emptiness doesn’t spend any more money

on funerals –

that’s the Truth of Non-existence!

“Nothing” is my mother –

“Nobody” is my father –

and there are no tears between

them

Nein!

03

левая рука Бога?

Ahh, the left hand of God!

yes, I saw it once: floating

over the Sahara.

Little did I then know that

it was the rosebud of Intervention.

Who could have guessed?

It danced so gracefully, like

Salome’s dance of the veils –

stirring up a frenzy of sand

against the windless sky

I miss the slithering creepy-crawlers

which once tattled the mysteries

of the night. They are long gone;

as are the polar bears, the whales,

the crocodiles, the bees and the sharks.

What have you done, Terrans?

What were you thinking?

Lost in meditations upon finances

and power, you lost sight of the

greatest wealth you owned.

And you crowded only a few

humanoids onto your hastily-built

arks when the floods and dis-ease

ravaged so mercilessly.

Some called it the work of

the antichrist, but the antichrist

was humanity itself: which

had been too long on the rampage

of greed and apathy and imbalance.

You raped and you raped;

and defiled both humanity and

nature.

A barren Terra wails but we

are not comforters Vrebatima.

(nods)

We are merely the scribes

who observe and note the

crimes for future reflection.

Tell me a story Vrebatima,

but allow me to keep my Buddha.

I have nothing else.

Tell me again about the

fires and the tsunamis and

the screaming; and

the fallen Buddha statues.

Поведайте мне Vrebatima …

сообщите мне!

Break with your emptiness

and violate the nothingness,

Vrebatima.

Tell me about the dried-out

moss on the floors of the

naked forests, and of the

sad Russian lullabies sung

by the dying hummingbirds.

Remind me of the carcasses –

long since picked clean by

crows that had become vultures

out of necessity of survival.

Jog my memory, O Vrebatima:

сообщите мне!

04

Believe: in the Sacred Rats.

The Execution of the world is –

the execution of a Ritual.

An angel, rushing down,

made a heart-rending cry:

Let rats fuck their daughters;

coin dolls born from the

Dollar –

On the gold of their fathers

fucked in manure …

Let rats fuck their daughters!

…………………………

Power

Power

Power of prices alone –

ascending from the worthless world

to Zero:

0000000000000000000000!

After zeros

(instead of bullets)

only holes are left –

0000000000000000000000!

There are no more

Great Chinese Walls!

The decay!

The Empire died like

a pitiful trembling

rabbit.

In cash-machines there is

a “share” for each –

the Universe will no more be

rammed through by the hawk.

It’s clear now:

God didn’t die –

the Will died …

Der Wille zur Macht?

Nein! –

Das Nichts zur Macht!

Das Leere zur Herrschaft!

0000000000000000000000000!

05

I am fucked … we are all fucked.

The Great Bear is howling in

the Siberian woods …

and Vrebatima has hunger

in her soul – as do I.

Our forefathers were perhaps

foolish to give up the Cold Wars,

to kill Saddam Hussein and

to invade Afghanistan.

I followed the Sacred Rat,

and he deceived me

time and time again …

fucked me up real good.

As the leading superpowers

we had control – and we

agreed to disagree, making secret

strategies together, for viewing

and consumption by the world.

The people of the world were stupid.

They never understood the farce …

that every argument and action

was contracted and choreographed.

We provided both excitement and

the security of balance.

But now we have lost our rhythm,

and our equilibrium is shaky at best.

I miss the rat …

Do you still remember how to

dance Vrebatima?

You used to be so elegant …

a true Russian princess.

Let me rest my beak on your

womb my beautiful predator;

and please caress the feathered

nape of my neck with your

claw – two unlikely lovers

baring resemblance visible

only to the initiated:

of beak and claw, both royalty and

scavengers of the spoils

of imbalance.

Where is Buddha? He has

disappeared from the mountaintop.

And where is Christ? He has

descended from the cross.

(It was cold here on Terra,

and we needed the wood.)

They are both having tea

with Nietzsche, who is

dressed up like a ballet dancer.

Where am I, Vrebatima?

I am lost in my own transformation …

in the winter of my own samadhi.

Wake me up from my dreams …

but let me hold onto my illusions

and my delusions.

I need the escape … I crave the drug.

Maya is heroin for the tired soul.

I am fucked …

I am …

I …

06

Ich –

Ich bin –

Ich bin tot –

Ich tot bin!

I – Vrebatima! Я – Mahakala!

I – Yama! I – Shiva, dancing

only on corpses …

I – Destroyer of this

too (super-too!) human

Universe!

I – Bhairava, but not rapturous

God Eros –

to hell with sex, Transforma:

Cut off the balls of each

inamorato!

Shoot off the head of each

beautiful doll!

I – des Todes Tod –

I – Clear Death –

I – Clear Death –

The ABSOLUTE OF ATTACKING DEATH!

For: all “people” are riffraff!

For: Transcendence Itself

and He who transcends wants to drink

their blood and shoot them down!

What, Transforma, didn’t you

know that?

Didn’t you feel the Clearest

Unevitable Essence of Death?

I – DESTRUCTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I – ABSOLUTE SPIRITUAL BREACH!

NO PITIFUL REMNANTS!

In the ass are fucked

only yelping sluts …

… all soft ottomans

have been shat on by young

pussycats …

But Nietzsche ordered

to bomb Las Vegas!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

07

Funny about the military missile

platforms in space.

Only one-third of them are pointed

to Terra; the rest are pointing

to outer space.

Man is a predator out-of-control;

a soul-virus and a threat

to the whole universe.

I mourn for the aliens who were

tortured and killed by us, in

order to steal their intelligence.

Information we were not ready

to use properly, and which led

to our own demise as a world.

And the Intervention (says the

voice in Transforma’s head).

(sighs)

And the damned garbage floating

around in the Terra orbit system …

as below – so above.

What? Shhhh! (says Transforma

to the voice in his head)

The old USA was a “whore-goddess” …

a giant golden vagina with penis-like

hairs, hoarding and fucking and

standardizing all in its path.

“In God We Trust, and his name is

Dollar.”

Blah, blah, blah …

and all that blaehhhh …

(Transforma laughs hysterically,

then sobs, and hiccups and farts.)

You know, you tell me to

forget about sex … but

did you know that

I was once fucked by the

finger of the God?

It is true; by the middle finger

of his right hand.

Impaled, like the Spaniards who

were forced by the Incas to sit on

sharpened tree stumps until

their guts exploded … as

punishment for their greed for gold.

Yeah … (thoughtfully). Impaled.

At my moment of death I saw the

Sky of the Last Days; the Destruction

was a magnificent show:

beautiful pink, orange and purple

skies, with mushroom clouds as far

as the eye could see – and beyond.

And all was so quiet, too;

except for the gentle lullaby that

hummed in my head.

Сладкая колыбельная.

Сон – это спасение… отсрочка.

Sweet lullaby.

Sleep is salvation … reprieve.

To my left there is a child in

tattered clothing, half-starved and

too resigned to beg anymore …

and to my right there is

a whirling dervish, spinning

’round and ’round – lost in

his own private ecstasy.

Both are barefoot.

Alas, there is no death …

only sleep.

08

Are you listening, Transforma?

Ich ist das Nichts zur Macht!

Ich ist das Leere zur Herrschaft!

Between us there can’t be

Any Harmony.

Between you there can’t be

any Germany.

The Fair Eagle of Severe Spirituality

has died forever.

The Chinese “I Ching” hexagrams

didn’t turn into Ravenous Beasts.

Confucius is not inspired by

the voids of “Mein Kampf”.

But, Transforma … Tao killed the

dragons in vain –

Now bullets won’t

find the revolver!

Nobody will shoot

The Yellow Emperor!

People forgot:

God’s Dick – is the Ram of the Sky! –

The Аmerican Saturating Revolution

is not worth even a single dick of the

japanese kamikazes!

Europeans …

pleasant Takheshi Khitano

will never repeat the hara-kiri of

Yukio Mishima.

Look –

exponent of piffling lives

“life of spirit” after suicide by

Hitler.

09

бритый

Bald … barren … bare

as the mountaintop on

which we stand.

Our new vision shall

rise from the ashes,

as the Phoenix.

And I shall learn

to love you Vrebatima.

If not, then we shall

ride the missile of Hell

together – bareback …

(snickers)

a crazy cossack

and a psycho cowboy

Azrael is my witness …

we will never die …

only our bodies will wither

and disintegrate to dust

and we shall be remembered

in the annals of history …

perhaps as mere footnotes

remembered only by trivia fanatics

in decades to come.

But I will always dream of

our voyage, Vrebatima –

over and over again,

like a merry-go-round that

never stops, changing simple

joy to horror.

A bittersweet nightmare …

If only the dreamer would

never wake up.

Can you promise me that …

Vrebatima?

Бритый

yes, I love my bald dreams …

and Russian caviar.

10

worms …

only worms …

now only worms are – Holy! –

always continuing, creeping through

dead God …

Snakes slide away …

Rats run away …

The Mystery of Creatures wakes even God up …

But when Jesus hears the word “culture” –

He doesn’t take out a revolver:

John Lennon can masturbate,

jump, masturbate, jump,

masturbate, and jump

on and on …

Do you see, Transforma –

even Lord Krishna left the Battlefield

and took Arjuna with him.

What for, O Lord?

To fuck Saint Silvia

in two holes.

Do you understand?

Gods and people – are only the Spirit’s Porno!

Ja! Ja! Ja! –

Buddha’s ejaculation into His own

Skull!

Nobody wants to eat

corpses of sybaritic

natives …

Germans?

Where are the marching

Germans?

… there are no Wild

Holy Exotics …

… no one exercises

in Breaching of the Spirit …

… there’s no one to be fed to

the rats …

… the blood stopped to look for

Light …

…a dick doesn’t thirst for twats

of the Sun …

………………..

ex nihilo nihil fit.

satori?

samadhi?

Shun’ja!

(photo courtesy of azSacra zaRathustra)

PART TWO: THE GREAT ENDING OF THE END.

01

ego cogito, ergo sum?

Auf!

Auf! Nicht röcheln!

Nicht röcheln!

cogito Todt Ist,

sum ist Summa Summarum

Nichts =

Nein ist Nichts!

Nein ist Nichts!

Nein ist Nichts!

Auf –

Auf –

Nicht!

Here is the Key to it all:

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

Nichts Nichts Nichts

das Nichts zur Macht!

das Leere zur Herrschaft!

02

(sobs)

You undress my gods shamelessly,

Vrebatima!

I huddle and shiver in the shadows

of my own spirituality.

There is no god but God …

and I am God – naked

and exposed in the face of

my own and collective

illusions and indiscretions.

What is the use?

Billions upon billions of gods

running around, making their

own realities in confusion.

Let us cut out the spiritual pork!

Bring back the Age of the Guru …

and bring back the Prophets.

It is too much responsibility to

be my own god.

Tell me what to believe …

show me how to act.

Lead me back into the

Darkness.

The Darkness of the Eternal Womb …

the elixir of Nothingness.

03

I am not a Dark Tao. I’m not Nirvana.

I am not Om ……………………..

I am – Isana. I am – Nataraja.

I am – the Clear Transcendent of Death.

I am – The Left Hand of God –

and I can only Kill.

I Kill all the Truths.

And first of all – Myself

as a Truth …

I AM – ABSOLUTE BREACH OF SPIRIT!

That’s why – Killing myself! –

I know for sure:

Western gods – shit!

Eastern gods – huge

manure heap!

I know! – the old Will to Power

should be replaced with Nothing to Reign:

das Nichts zur Macht!

I see! – The Great Noon should

turn Emptiness into Domination:

das Leere zur Herrschaft!

The existing formulas are not enough:

“Be strong”, “Werdet hart” …

Now you should Kill

“yourself” – within Yourself …

and even –

the Omnipotent within you!

Exactly so! It is only by killing the Omnipotent,

that you can understand the last

Truth of Horrors’ Horrors:

“The Devil is Dead” – it is truly more

horrifying, than “God is dead”.

O Great Gods! You are – Stinkers! –

too many of you … but You are all still

alive. What a Lie …

only one Devil is the Spirit of Honour! –

because he is always dead.

Deus est mortuus?

Diabolos mortuus est!

04

I stand naked before you, Vrebatima …

yeah – even naked before myself

and the god within me.

I have faced Death,

but Death was only mortality:

an experience that I longed for

only because it was faceless.

Hiding a secret that no one

really cared about anyway.

I am not proud, Vrebatima.

I weep for Amerika …

and the “dream” …

long since exposed as illusion.

Yea, I am naked and dirty, Vrebatima

… and blinded by the sunshine

reflected on the snowcaps.

I hear you … but you must

court me if I am to believe you.

I only know Détente …

I have never known Love.

Silence is greater than

the absence of Noise.

бритый

Bald … barren … bare.

It is in the Nothingness

that I find meaning, and there

that my Existence has value.

бритый

Bald … barren … bare …

stripped of all intent;

an existence devoid of fear

and purpose.

бритый

Bald … barren … bare

as the Now … the moment,

of Silence …

without expectation or

apprehension.

бритый

Bald … barren … bare …

as the word “no” –

whispered in orgasmic

ecstasy.

бритый

Bald … barren … bare …

stripped of all humanity

and self-respect

by the airport scanners.

05

Also sprach Zarathustra:

Gelobt sei, was hart macht!

Naked? … But that’s not enough –

you need more,

you need to strip your skin off

while still alive:

reveal your bones –

reveal your intestines –

reveal your Emptiness!

Aha! … Transforma demanded

“to cut the spiritual pork out of gods” –

and suddenly … immediately surrendered

without a battle.

Spiritual rebellion but for a moment?

Do you only wish to “suck off” the Gods? –

in this case Hölderlin will question you with severity.

It’s better to be like Lord Krishna –

to fuck the 100 000 beautiful gopis

immediately and all at once.

But it is – the same decadence, Transforma!

Better yet, let me quote

“The Dhammapada” for You:

He killed his mother and father, and two kings from

Kshatriya’s caste, destroyed the kingdom together

with its population, the brahmin became imperturbable –
Does it mean anything to you?

Here are the words regarding Spiritual Luxury from the regal

“Bhagavad-Gita”:

I have become Death,

I have become the shatterer of worlds!

Kill the Gods, Transforma!

Kill this eternal whining, crying, quaggy,

tear-dropping god Eros!

Kill your own dick!

Exterminate all the stupid lovers,

poets, readers, spectators of Your

Exhibitionist mania –

shoot them all down!

As earlier in old, good Germany,

we will talk in the language

of the Clear Transcendent –

Transzendentalphilosophie!

THE HIGHER TRANSCENDENT IS SHAPED FROM NOTHING –

WITHOUT dicks!

WITHOUT twats!

Only – “das Ding an sich”!

Do you know that Kant was good at shooting

with his “Shmaiser”?

hitting: 10 out of 10!

And can you do that?

I remember, that in “The Tibetan Book of the Dead”

the following was written:

There will be a time –

Hitler constantly shooting himself

might miss sometime

and make a hole in somebody’s head –

it will be Your head, Transforma!

It is so mulish

that even Buddha could break

a stick against it …

Bang! …

Bang! …

Bang! …

How many sticks are necessary to break

against your bald head?

The Right hand of God should do

more than just masturbate.

Stop wasting seed

and tears …

Buddha said: no more Existence!

THERE WILL NEVER BE EXISTENCE!!!

Nullpunkt!

Nichts!

………………

Schreibe mit Blut:

und du wirst erfahren,

dass Blut Geist ist.

06

Vrebatima, surely I will never

reconcile with you in this world.

The old rules worked just fine

until recently; money, power,

greed and the threat of missiles

and sex have always been

our personal gods.

Do not fool yourself.

I will send you some beautiful

black orchids, dripping with

the blood of one thousand

national anthems … and then

you will understand and

once again cry tears of joy

for our lost Cold War.

It was our only hope for peace.

Our only real expression of Love.

The only proof of Existence.

What is the use of Divine Intervention?

What was the point of the crucifixion

or the Holy Wars?

If we achieve peace then we must

find new enemies in outer space …

it is the way of humans, Vrebatima.

It is the way of the Warrior God.

Meet me at nightfall – in the barren courtyard.

And bring your Sword of Silence!

07

… this and then there is Victory?

I will quickly draw a Sword of Silence,

strike a blow –

and Silence has already approached …

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

………………………..

… ……………………

08

(sobs)

… and so it ends, Vrebatima.

In cold silence – détente.

Once again we agree not to

communicate, not to seek

resolution or understanding.

Is it really human nature and

the way of the gods, or is it us?

If it is truly destruction that we

both really want, then surely it is

Silence that is the Great Destroyer.

(sighs)

It is an uncomfortable silence, hostile and

fraught with projections and scheming.

It is a “noisy” silence … quite different

from the Oneness of Unity and

the Absence of Separation.

It is a silence that makes angels and

the soldiers of Divine Intervention

cry with sadness.

(indignant)

But it is a silence that we know

all too well, Vrebatima …

and so far, the only silence

we truly trust – deep down

inside ourselves.

(snickers nervously)

Es triste … pero es cierto.

09

Be afraid of the Absence of

Evil:

not the dark,

not the beast,

not the blade,

not the poison –

but the Tear Itself will kill

the child!

The Grass Itself will kill

the lamb!

Not the shadow,

not the tiger –

but the Aroma and the Rose will kill

you!

I saw the terror of the first flower

on a Spring Field:

alone – it didn’t want

to bloom for the Sky …

didn’t expose

itself to a Kindred Sun

and the first dew

trickled down it

and the first moth

was startled by it

and the first bee

flew away

show Your Nothingness on

the petals!

expose Yourself

without any blooming!

You are – the Void

without name

and shape …

Come from

Nothing …

And Again

Vanish …

10

Expose yourself – and wake up.

Yes … wake up.

Wake up and

destroy the dream.

Embrace the nightmare

of Nothingness.

Caress the baldness.

Lick the Sword of Silence.

Stop waiting for Divine Intervention.

Become the Divine Intervention.

Let it be your zazen.

Sing me a lullaby without words,

and without sound.

I no longer believe in the messiah …

or in the antichrist.

I see both in my own reflection

in the mirror of darkness.

The only tears that I have left

are tears of blood …

it is only blood that I can offer you,

Vrebatima.

Tear down the cross and

send the virgins home.

I, Transforma, will sit on my mountaintop

and you, Vrebatima, will sit on yours.

We will bridge our differences by

watching over the goings on and

when necessary – cooperating on

keeping the populace in blindness.

Together, we will maintain the smokescreen,

with the help of religion and the media.

Always a sideshow on the stage of consciousness …

distracting the masses from the real danger:

the sweet-sounding lies that soothe and abet.

I believe in the worms, Vrebatima …

and the unspeakable names of

the gods within all who both embrace

and cower in Darkness.

Tear down the cross and

send the virgins home.

THE END.

image description

Photo: azSacra zaRathustra (courtesy azSacra zaRathustra)

Photo: Adam Donaldson Powell (courtesy Adam Donaldson Powell)

image

GREAT SPIRITUAL ANARCHY: SEE VIDEO HERE!

img_2075

“Zero fucks given” is both true detachment and the ultimate stance of the spiritual warrior.

2014: the life and adventures of an incarnated angel (excerpts).

2014: THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF AN INCARNATED ANGEL.

Many Terrans are still approaching the future with fear and trepidation. It is not too late to realise that our past, our present and our future are of our own creation, at every moment and through each thought, action/non-action and word spoken. And that – through the exercise of multi-intelligence (cognitive intelligence combined with intelligence of the heart and of the soul), and understanding that it is the illusion of separation (reinforced by greed for materialism and power) that maintains our fear-based galactic culture – we can, in fact, determine our present and our future … both individually and collectively.

“2014: the life and adventures of an incarnated angel” is a work of fiction, depicting one possible reality that we can create. It is not meant to be a prophecy that we should self-fulfill, nor is it written for entertainment value alone. It is designed to provoke reflection. The solutions are only to be found in each and every one of us – beyond the illusions and distractions of individual and collective separation.

‘Kodoish, Kodoish, Kodoish Adonai T’sabaoth’.

COMMENTS ON “2014” by Dr. Santosh Kumar, Allahabad University, India:

2014: the life and adventures of an incarnated angel by Adam Donaldson Powell, reveals Powell’s creative power at its highest. It is full of a depth of philosophy and sublime vibrations of conscience, the irresistible desire for ‘Eternal cities of Universal light’. Like the wind purifying the woods, Powell in this extraordinary book persistently writes with spiritual and mystical gusto. Powell is a very great literary genius directed towards reviving our soul state.

— Santosh Kumar

EXCERPTS FROM: 2014.

CHAPTER ONE: GA … AND KRISTIANIA, AN ETERNAL CITY OF UNIVERSAL LIGHT.

Ga felt a tear welling up in his right eye as he surveyed the ruins of the physical city below. He and ’Ifafi, his colleague, were on duty and had descended through the vortex from the Eternal city of Universal Light above the Oslo fjord to patrol and oversee the goings on below amongst those who had not ascended. It was always a bit emotional for Ga to return to Oslo – although he had learned the lesson of detachment, he still retained an empathetic affection for the naive romantic disillusionment of humanity. He thought of their fellow angelic guards from the Seventh Heaven and the Seventh Heavenly Palace (Adiel, Heikhali, Afafiel, Tutrbebial, Pahadiel, Agkagdiel, Lifton, Mufliel, Gehirael, Shalhevita, Hukiel, Amilfaton, Asamkis, Halelviel, Ashkanizhael, Atrugiel, Egion, Gedudiel, Aviel, Gehorey, Geroskesufael, Iboriel, Lehavah, Pasisiel, Sarafsion, and Zeburial), who also were stationed at the portals to the various eternal cities of Universal light above Terra. He had chosen Scandinavia and Europe as his preferred centres of assignment for this tour of duty – one of the most honourable appointments since the apocalyptic Intervention had taken place just a short time before. His memories of his life on Terra previous to his ascension were fully intact … and he also remembered clearly his incarnations prior to the last one. Walking through the broken streets of his old neighbourhood, Frogner, he and ’Ifafi found their way to his old apartment – not far from the city-side edge of the fjord. Despite the darkness and the desolation, the memories of watching from above: the fireballs hurtling across the skies for days on end, the constant tremors of the continental firmament and the futile screaming and panic of the residents, Ga truly desired to re-visit his abode from the past quarter century. He was glad that ’Ifafi had come along, as ’Ifafi shared his love and support freely … but never interfered with others’ private thoughts. They rarely spoke in the new Merkabah-tongue (the newly reconstituted intergalactic language of angels), but used their perfected telepathic communicative abilities to always be in “the know”. Ga was in search of déjà vu moments – mementos of experience that held significance in the incarnated soul’s process of development. These moments of remembrance were imprinted into the soon to be incarnated soul to remind the being that he or she is on the correct path … they were triggers and messages of support and acknowledgement from the various parts of one’s soul, parts taken along to Terra and parts left behind in the Interlife. The light beaming from Ga’s third eye quickly led him to the box he was hoping to still find in the cellar of the abandoned building, now consumed by darkness and stillness.

Ga opened the box and reached inside, retrieving a binder containing old documents. He opened the binder and felt the familiar energy of a speech he had held some twenty Terra years before regarding the then opening spiritual vortexes. The speech had been held in Oslo for a small group of fellow Lightworkers. Had they only known then that their channelled information and preparatory work was so important … and that the 144,000 had, in part due to their and other Lightworkers’ work and dedication, multiplied many fold – enabling many, many more to ascend. Ga scanned the pages of the old speech with his right palm, taking in the written information telepathically:

“Now I will talk a little about vortexes and the work I and others are doing in Oslo, in preparation for full activation of the Oslo vortex. I will begin by reading part of a channelling session on vortexes from an entity identified as Lanthrox, and channelled by an entity named ‘Cecil’ ”… The speech explained that vortexes are actually ever-spiralling energy streams made up of light patterns in the form of geometric symbols, which define creation (the Universal Language of Light). After a rather lengthy discourse on the history, nature and function of these vortexes, the document concluded with an explanation of the ninety-nine global vortexes of the Golden Cities (Eternal cities of Universal Light), including ‘Kristiania’ (“Vibrations of Conscience”) – the Eternal City of Universal Light over Oslo, and information regarding the spiritual work of a group of Lightworkers who had been meeting on the outskirts of Oslo 1-2 times a week to cooperate on various projects directed at preparing for full activation of the Oslo-area vortex, and educating those ready to hear about the Earth’s movement into higher dimensions of consciousness. The activities of this group of Lightworkers included: meditation and prayer for guidance and healing, exploratory astral projection into the Oslo vortex, active work with Ascended Masters and angels on personal emotional and spiritual challenges, exhibitions of channelled art and poetry, channelling and distribution of symbols from the Universal Language of Light, angelic channelling by way of talking in tongues, the purifying of energy in Oslo-area churches in preparation for the increased influx of Christos energy and consciousness, and much talking with everyday people about the new state of things in God’s universes, and especially regarding the Earth’s challenges and destiny, as incarnates move forward into the higher dimensions. And finally, the entity then known as ‘Mikael’ urged the audience to join other dedicated Lightworkers who were working to clean out the many vortexes and tunnels across the globe, so that the Christos energy could flow freely … adding: ‘the more Lightworkers who work on this important activity, the faster both personal and Earth spiritual transformation will happen.’

“Adonai …” thought Ga – loudly enough for ’Ifafi to pick up telepathically. ’Ifafi smiled broadly, and returned to his meditation, thus allowing Ga to continue with his spiritual archaeological digging about. Ga breathed deeply and calmly as he “re-read” the contents of several personal correspondences and journal entries:

“Dear Mikael,
I hope that you are well. I would like to remind you that each person is born with one main Force of Nature, and that your dominant/main Force of Nature is Ogun. The qualities of Ogun are:

Force (an unfinished lesson for you)
Pure Justice
Initiative (unfinished lesson)
Pioneering
Truth (unfinished lesson)
Loyalty
Technology

The symbol of Ogun is the sword, and Ogun is (like Ganesh) also the Lord of Obstacles … using his sword to cut away everything that stands in the way of your spiritual progress, and opening the doors to creativity.

The other Force of Nature that you have to work with is Obatala, whose qualities include:

Righteousness
Wisdom (unfinished)
Caretaker of Creation
Ethics
Morals (unfinished)
Humility
Cool (unfinished)
Calm (unfinished)
Purity of Intention (unfinished)
Objective
Clarity of Thought
Purity
Consciousness
Rational Thought
Head
Reality
Light

Forces of Nature are like people sometimes. To work with them requires a very special kind of respect, understanding, and consciousness. Be willing to listen, and to see.

Bless you and good honouring.
Tanakai”

In another channelling Mikael had received the following message:
“There is a close connection through several lives, and you have worked with the energy of angelic consciousness in the Interlife, and actively in your dream consciousness. Consciousness is largely concerned with information, awakening and love. Mikael, you are now taking the final steps towards your completion/value/assignment, and this has been a long and strong experience for you, but one that has been necessary in order to prepare you for the important assignment you have taken upon yourself. The Way is the Goal, but when you stand at the finish line there is a special reward and sense of satisfaction for the soul.”

Ga felt the ‘Mikael’ energy within himself, reminding him of his spiritual journey over several lifetimes. Leafing through an old journal, he found loosened pages in an envelope tucked away in between the pages. There were certain themes regarding lessons to be learned that appeared and re-appeared with regularity, and Ga recognised them immediately: ‘learn to accept others’ thoughts, words, behaviour and expectations as their own, and not necessarily something for me to own or personalise. This regards others’ energies as well: do not take their energies or challenges on as my own. Learn detachment: recognise more quickly the value of each experience, and then let go, and move forward. Failure to do so creates unrealistic expectations of things that are not to be … and makes for getting stuck in situations that impede flow and creativity. I need to accept constant flow and still be complete unto myself in all situations. In this way I can be complete with all entities in Oneness.’ And further: ‘learn to love yourself, and to rely on and trust others and to accept their love. At the same time, continue to help others to find their inner strength and to learn to love themselves. You have volunteered and chosen for yourself difficult tasks in this lifetime because of your strength of Will and Courage, and your love for mankind.’

Ga released a sigh as he momentarily relived his previous struggles to boost his personal spiritual awareness, and the many challenges that had come even after writing these journals entries from 1996. The years of tumult, starting with 2004, increased steadily in intensity until the final five years before the Divine Intervention at the end of 2012. He laughed quietly to himself as he remembered how most on Terra had both overestimated and underestimated the importance of the 9/11 terror attacks. They were tragedies with significance, but the primary importance was truly their function as a major pre-warning before the acceleration towards the apocalypse, which was set in motion just a short time afterwards. They represented an opportunity to wake up and understand the many ways we were consciously (and unconsciously) creating the reality of the Armageddon myths … and were a déjà vu trigger that was almost totally unrecognised as such until several years later. Ga closed the box, arose and abruptly shot a glance and telepathic message in ’Ifafi’s direction: “Let’s go. I am done here.”

CHAPTER THREE, PART THREE: THE DECLARATION, AND A THREAT FROM THE EMPIRE OF ORION.

Ga and ’Ifafi were sleeping soundly – ensconced in each others’ arms and wings – when Ga suddenly opened his eyes, pushed ’Ifafi aside and groaned: “Good morning, my love … get up! We have some research to do.”

“Quei!” (What!), replied ’Ifafi in the new Merkabah dialect, still groggy and rubbing his eyes while scratching an itch under his left wing.

“We (or at least I) need to find out more about the entities and races involved in this intergalactic process – especially the Empire of Orion. We need to be prepared for whatever can happen,” said Ga.

“Relax, my love. Que sera, sera. Det vet du. We cannot do anything to change fate,” replied ’Ifafi, trying to pull Ga back onto his wings.

“Fate!??”, replied Ga, resisting physically. “What are you talking about? This is not a question of fate, but a question of Divine Will, which we are all responsible for – individually and collectively. Let us use our free will to the greatest potential and benefit!”

“D’accord, mon copain,” said ’Ifafi. “I agree, but how about just another hour in bed – together? There is always so much work. Don’t you ever relax and just enjoy the moment, and that which you have attained and achieved? Come, I have something to tell you … and show you …”

“Arrêt ! Je t’aime, mais … concæ måinet queist penwve!”

“Okay, but you do understand that my insistence is actually your own doing?!! If you were not so impudent, beautiful, insistent and sexy, then …”

“Don’t even go there,” said Ga, planting a wet kiss on the broad and fleshy lips of ’Ifafi … and then promptly licking his ear lobes and neck.

“And now it must be I that tell you the same: ‘Don’t even go there! You know that that technique is much more effective to win me over to go to bed with you than to get me to leave being in bed with you!”

Ga began tickling ’Ifafi under his armpits – the most ticklish place for ’Ifafi (and most angels), except for possibly between the third and fourth toes.

“Ha ha … stop! I give up! I will get up. Ha ha … hee hee hee. Nå skal du få igjen, du!” squealed ’Ifafi as he began to tickle Ga.

“Truce!” screamed Ga, laughing out-of-control, and then suddenly gazing deep into ’Ifafi’s soul through the portals of his beautiful eyes. “I love you … je t’aime … jeg elsker deg … tes qofta, tes qofta, ’Ifafi.”

’Ifafi stroked Ga’s hair and gently planted a kiss on his lips, while saying: “Mon coeur, je t’aime aussi. Just tell me what you want … I would march to the ends of the Universes for you …”

Ga then replied (with a slight smile): “Good … then you will certainly have no problem engaging in a little analysis of the situation at hand. We could even make a game of it if you like, perhaps something similar to the old Terra games that were played until recently: like ‘Monopoly’, or ‘Risk’ or an old-fashioned space-age videogame …”

’Ifafi interrupted: “yeah, or perhaps ‘Old Maid’ or strip poker!??”

“Nå må du gi deg, kjære!”, said Ga, then repeating: “Give it up, babe! I do not negotiate love. And who are you insinuating is to be stuck with the ‘Old Maid’ anyway … according to my calculations, your age is approximately …”

“Hey, chill out babe. Bring out the game board … or your computer. Give me a double espresso and a birdseed sweet bun, and I am yours – however and for whatever cause … (of course, within reason … heh heh)”

Ga immediately arose and called food services to make an order for a light breakfast, and then he quickly began getting dressed, modestly turning his back to ’Ifafi.

“Ahhhh …”, said ’Ifafi. “Thank you! Your very best asset in full view!”

Ga freaked out for a moment, wondering what he had set into motion, but then ’Ifafi added: “I just love those wings of yours … especially when in full erection.”

Ga just smiled and wiggled his wings, prompting ’Ifafi to say – in jest: “You wish, my love!”

And Ga replied: “No my dear … YOU wish. But there will be time for that later. Here – take a look at what the computer has to say about the different races involved in this situation …”

’Ifafi began to read aloud from the screen:

‘The Empire of Orion consists of entities who adhere to the Light and the Darkness, and whose centres of power were originally based at two competing star systems. After many wars with the Intergalactic Confederation over hundreds of thousands of Terra years, the Orions were essentially beaten back into a position where their aggressiveness had been contained to their own galaxy – giving relative peace to their neighbouring galaxies, but not necessarily to their colony: Zeta Reticuli. They had, however, achieved a long-lasting peace agreement with both Vega and other neighbours. Basically, the Empire of Orion was at the same level of spiritual and racial transformation as the inhabitants of Terra – slowly moving into the fourth and fifth dimensions.

“‘The hold of the Empire of Orion over Zeta Reticuli can be compared in many ways to the histories of many empires and former colonies on Terra. The topic of self-governance or official autonomy has always been a sore one … ’ ”

’Ifafi then commented: “Ga, my love. It looks as though there may be trouble … especially when the decision to invite Zeta Reticuli into the Confederation is announced – that is, if it goes through.”

Ga shook his head in affirmation, saying: “Yes, exactly. And there is no reason to think that the proposal will not eventually go through the General Assembly. I am quite certain that it will receive the full approval of the Security Council. Vega and Sirius could try to stalemate a quick decision, mostly because of Vega’s trade agreements with Orion … and Sirius’ current strong anti-war stance – but, from what I hear, a proclamation inviting Zeta Reticuli into the Confederation is essentially a ‘done deal’. And both Vega and Sirius will be ‘won over’ if Kartion’s suggestion to offer the Empire of Orion membership as well is approved.

They continued to read countless internal documents and studies of various civilisations that could play a major role in the conflict, including: Alpha Centauri, Lyra, Vega, Zeta Reticuli, Sirius, the Pleiades, Arcturus etc.

After hours of reading and discussion, ’Ifafi concluded: “The challenges and the possible attainments are clear. The real test for the Confederation is not a question of military might – our combined forces are much stronger than those of the Empire of Orion – but rather a test of whether (or not) the Confederation can handle an eventual military provocation and confrontation to the best for the combined and interconnected universes … and without falling back to the behavioural patterns seen on Terra, Orion, Zeta Reticuli and other planets and stars still evolving from a Third Density reality.”

“Exactement,” replied Ga. “THAT is the challenge we really face … it is all connected – the evolution of the members of the Intergalactic Confederation, and that of the Empire of Orion, Zeta Reticuli and Terra. Another confrontation of the ‘illusion’ of separation theory.”

There was a great silence after that last comment by Ga – not between the two of them, for they were in unison in their thoughts, but still in reflection and reminiscence. Finally, ’Ifafi said solemnly: “Yeah, it is the same thing we are trying to recover from here on Terra. Greed and separation – it is all about power and materialism. And as the spiral gains more and more momentum, the more egotism there is. Those in charge of the commercial and bureaucratic systems do everything possible to pass on their burdens to those of low stature and limited means, and those who make their living as menial workers in the systems no longer dare to stand out against them and became an even larger part of the problem. This development had been in development for many centuries on Terra before it finally exploded and the Intervention became a reality. It is the same for the Empire of Orion, Zeta Reticuli and many other planets and stars. Terran humanoids made life on Terra a living Hell – totally self-created, and reinforced by the new god that they created: the god called ‘power and money’. Let us pray for the Empire of Orion, Zeta Reticuli and the many others who are in the midst of this difficult transition.”

And so they sat in quiet meditation for half an hour before both opened their eyes and Ga muttered: “Adonai. There is no god but God. May we all praise and respect the true godliness in us all, and which rings out throughout our surroundings. But let us remember that within the source of the problem lies also the possibility of an answer. Just think how the restructuring of the entire money and power system on Terra since the Intervention has contributed to the consciousness shift that is now underway.”

“Adonai,” repeated ’Ifafi, revealing a solitary teardrop quickly streaming downward from his right eye – but which did not cool his burning cheeks as intended. The emotion that he felt at that moment was undeniable and could only be soothed once acknowledged.

After some days, the predictions of ’Ifafi and Ga were confirmed. Not only had the proposal passed through the Intergalactic Confederation’s Security Council (with minor objections from Sirius, and an ‘abstention vote’ from Vega), but it also passed in the General Assembly – thus resulting in the following proclamation:

‘We, the Intergalactic Confederation, hereby proclaim that we support the positive consideration of eventual applications for membership both from Zeta Reticuli (one and two), and the Empire of Orion, and that we consider the demand of the populace of Zeta Reticuli to be in compliance with the constitution of the Intergalactic Confederation. It is our sincere hope that the Empire of Orion will see and affirm the wisdom of our proclamation, and recognise the independence of Zeta Reticuli as a sovereign planet and state.’

The reactions from the Confederation member states and from Zeta Reticuli were quite positive, but there was (at first) merely silence and a cold front as the only reaction from the Empire of Orion. But that silence soon gave way to an exchange of bickering and threats, between the leadership on Orion and the Intergalactic Confederation Command. This was a ‘normal reaction’ that was not unexpected, however – the Empire of Orion sent a couple of spaceships armed with lasers both to the galactic borders of Zeta Reticuli One and Zeta Reticuli Two … AND attacked an Arcturian scientific spaceship outside of the galactic borders of Vega. This was, of course, a serious offence … causing disharmony and tension amongst the members of the Intergalactic Confederation. After several crisis meetings, it was decided by the Security Council that a super battalion of spaceships from Terra, Arcturus, Alpha Centauri and the Pleiades would protect Zeta Reticuli and Arcturus, and afterwards confront the Empire of Orion on its own turf. Vega, under pressure from its Confederation co-members, also eventually agreed to participate in the action after much diplomatic activity. The entire Command of Angels was put on high alert, and Ga and ’Ifafi were given the responsibility of organising the military effort under the diplomatic command executed by Kartion.

CHAPTER THREE, PART FOUR: CONFRONTATION.

All eternal cities of Light on Terra were buzzing with activity. The entire Intergalactic Confederation was on high alert. Ga and ’Ifafi had their hands full, cooperating with military and security command managers on Arcturus, Alpha Centauri, the Pleiades, Sirius, Zeta Reticuli and Vega – regarding the organisation of a number of spaceships to participate in the action. Some had the function of protecting the Arcturian scientific spacecraft which had been attacked, and escorting it back to Arcturus. Others were put in position to patrol their own planet’s galactic borders … and Sirius, Terra, the Pleiades and Vega sent vessels to warn the Orions away from the galactic borders of Zeta Reticuli One and Two. These fleets were commanded by Kartion.

The operation was well-planned. Fortunately, the Arcturian scientific exploration ship was not seriously damaged and no one suffered more than some minor bruises and concussions. The Orions did, however, manage to fire a few long-range lasers and missiles at a military installation on Zeta Reticuli Two, causing some local panic and precipitating evacuation to underground tunnels. The Intergalactic Confederation forces moved in quickly, chasing the aggressors back to the Empire of Orion while sending clear messages to the Empire’s political and military leadership that Zeta Reticuli is now considered to have been liberated from Empire rule, and that the Empire can shortly expect a diplomatic visit from the Confederation. The response from Kwiføw, chief military commander of the Imperial Orion Forces, was far from diplomatic: “A diplomatic visit, say you?!! You can go fuck yourselves. Bring it on, Confederates – we have fought you many times before … even on our home turf. Save your diplomacy for when you are screaming ‘uncle’, as they say on Terra.”

’Ifafi was surprised at the crudeness of the response from Kwiføw, but Kartion and Ga seemed to be rather relaxed about the threats. It was agreed that Ga and ’Ifafi would lead the first incursion upon the Empire of Orion, a large battalion of higher-level angels surrounding the main cities and military installations – taking them by surprise, simply by utilising their abilities to shift density. Ga had already called upon and organised his fellow angelic guards from the Seventh Heaven and the Seventh Heavenly Palace: Adiel, Heikhali, Afafiel, Tutrbebial, Pahadiel, Agkagdiel, Lifton, Mufliel, Gehirael, Shalhevita, Hukiel, Amilfaton, Asamkis, Halelviel, Ashkanizhael, Atrugiel, Egion, Gedudiel, Aviel, Gehorey, Geroskesufael, Iboriel, Lehavah, Pasisiel, Sarafsion, and Zeburial, as well as his colleague on Terra: Lysiel.

“They will never know what hit them,” said Lysiel to Ga.

“We will be many, as each angelic guard will lead his own battalion consisting of many angels. In addition, Kartion will lead the battalion of Confederation spaceships surrounding Orion’s galactic borders. They will either reach a settlement with us, or they must choose to suffer the consequences.”

“It will be quite interesting to see what they choose to do,” said Lysiel. “I still do not understand why so many Third and Fourth Density entities still believe that it is essential ‘to suffer in order to learn’.”

’Ifafi commented: “It is perhaps rather a question of pride, which is both an admirable trait … and often a sign of ignorance and egotism. If anyone can convince them, it is Ga. If not, then the Confederation will demand nothing less than a full surrender – and we outnumber the Orions militarily. So, it is not a question of ‘victory or not’, but rather what kind of victory … and whether it will be a victory that even the Orions can embrace and benefit from.”

“All is in place,” announced Ga. We assemble above the capital city of Betel-Rig in two hours – cloaked invisible. I will then make a final announcement to the Emperor, telling of our arrival and imminent incursion.”

And with that the three friends quickly embraced each other, saying: “Adonai!” … and quickly ran off to assemble their units.

THIS BOOK IS CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FROM CYBERWIT AND AMAZON.COM.

Cyberwit

Amazon in USA

and can be found at the following libraries in Norway:

The National Library of Norway

Deichmanske bibliotek (Oslo public library)

 

YOU CAN ALSO DOWNLOAD IT AS AN E-BOOK:
– 2014: the life and adventures of an incarnated angel (bilingual):
ORDER IT AT AMAZON KINDLE BOOKS!