THINGS TO COME

Somehow you know you will be a new life among dead things. Is that what a seed is about? It's like you live this life, you itch and scratch your way through it; sometimes you love, sometimes you don't, sometimes it just about dressing up in anger and fear in different costumes but all of it accumulates and you find, you are not the body, you are not sure what you are but you know you are a seed. You are in the ground. And this seed will grow into something. But with the experiences you've had, maybe, just maybe, you have made the seed something different, something stronger when it stretches out from this grave, from this wound and there is a bit of comfort. You are not regretting, nor screaming inside, just being silent, letting lives pass through you too make the seed stronger.

-- Excerpt from "The Underground Letters of a Heretic"

1^st EPILOGUE

"Sistah, you've been sitting here all afternoon scribbling 0n that pad," said Roland entering the room tossing his knapsack on a chair. It was 6:30pm.

Roland was coming from working as a secretary at a consulting firm. Roland had decided Michael needed quiet time to recover from his New York ordeal so he was footing the bills temporarily.

"I thought I'd write down some thoughts about New York."

"New York is behind you now. You are with me. I told you, I'd take care of you. You have nothing to worry about. I will not let anything happen to you."

"Well, my head is still being stretched like taffy."

"I know I heard you calling out last night. I remember that spell you taught me in case I heard you calling out. You think Mother will be a goddess like you someday. We could have so many men. I bet I was a witch in another life. Casting that spell seemed so natural."

"Well, don't get too over enthusiastic with casting spells. There are always repercussions."

"Sistah, you worry too much. You need to let go, have some fun. Get out of this stuffy room and find some man to play with. So what happen to that trick you met the other night?"

"He's out with one of his other tricks I'm sure. He reminded me he likes sex, and lots of it, and I told him, I rest on the seventh day."

"Sistah wants to sit on it and achieve sainthood."

"Don't you ever worry that no matter how much sex you have, it is really meaningless if there's no love involved."

"Mother has an itch that needs scratching."

"Well, I'm sure your husband will scratch your itch something fierce when he moves here."

"My man is still far away. He's not due in town for a few more weeks, so until then, Mother must scratch the itch as best as s/he can."

"Well, I think I'll continue you writing.

"I am a bit worried about you. You're calling out at night more and more. And sometimes, it's so unearthly. Are you sure, you can handle all this?"

"Don't know until it happens. I never know what the Archons have in store for me."

"You know I even thought I heard voices talking to you the other night, gave me the chills."

"Do you know what they were saying?"

"No, I thought I had snorted too many poppers. The last trick liked to inhale poppers when I tie him up and whip him."

"Don't you ever think, just maybe some of your activities are pushing the normal button."

"If it gets you off, and Mother gets to work the cakes, who am I too complain?

"Well, I'd worry where the dark side of sex is taking me."

"Well sistah, that's why you are holy for the both of us. Mother has needs. And I know when you become this Uthra; you will come and rescue Mother from hell. Cause Mother has needs and that itch needs scratching."

2^nd EPILOGUE

The reptilian Gods war against the Soul is based in simultaneous time which the Soul is not aware; momentary awareness is viewed usually as a waking dream; mental problems are drug induced nightmares.

Keeping the Soul off balance by affecting its other simultaneous incarnations has cut the Soul off from complete awareness and fragmented so it cannot ascend. It is lost in its own garden.

 

Lost parts of the Soul do not remember their multidimensional existence and this keeps it trapped in a certain frequency that is another name for dimensions. Thus, being incomplete, it cannot merge with its other selves because it is sees the other selves as alien, frightening creatures and demonic.

 

Therefore certain entities have been working diligently to keep the Soul in ignorance of itself. Partially, these entities fear their own annihilation with the Soul's awakening. Many human religions have been created to maintain a frequency of fear and ignorance so that the Soul does not go within and awaken its innate powers.

 

Unfortunately, we have encountered and made another enemy with our genetic manipulations; humans' fear has become a self aware parasite and has become like a virus in our programming.

 

The parts of the Soul lamenting their imprisonment, their confinement within a certain pattern of living has begun to make them rebellious against their captors sometimes know as family, friends, culture and society.

These programs, also known as aspects, have become the 'eyesore' of society: the disenchanted youth, the homeless and the destructive criminals.

 

As the Soul has not looked at itself, it has fragmented into many things and these represents the dark as well as the light - these are emotions of the Soul seeking to return to the source as some Souls are becoming conscious of being co-creators.

 

But there are other Creator beings who have sought to use the Soul for their own self gains and have waged a continuous war that takes place through time and have infiltrated our timelines.

For us, since the Soul does not know its true origins, and with our genetic manipulations, the true pattern has kept the Soul encased in our never ending dramas thereby providing food as well as entertainment.

Our attempts to keep this sector of creation in a low frequency will keep our race in power and thwart the ascension of creation.

 

FIRST DRAFT OF A REPTILIAN FIELD REPORT

3^rd EPILOGUE

The body of the woman floated on the sea toward me as I was sitting in a fishing boat. I thought she could be the catch of the day. I detected no breathing. She was naked from the waist up, her milky white breast where firm, her nipples erect, her hair tangled like seaweed. As I pulled her onto the boat, I noticed her lower body was scaly, elongated; it was serpentine and seemed to burn with a greenish light.

 

The sun folded in on itself until it became the moon; then Night fell. Night lifted its skirt to reveal a sky full of roses each one dripping blood. The moon's aura was like a crown of thorns.

 

She laid there in the throes of death. She was primal in her beauty.

 

I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to milk her mouth of the nectar.

 

Would I know death from her lips that was above as well as below?

I could not resist the smell that rose from her like a fog. My hands moved through the fog until I found her body. My mouth found her chalice, her lower mouth, and drank the monthly blood that flowed from it.

 

She woke up, embraced me and kissed me deep, her serpent tongue dripping its venom down my throat.

 

I woke from her kiss and found myself swimming in an egg. I heard the sound of a chicken and some beggar cracked the egg with the handle of his phallic gun. I spilled out the egg and exploded onto the beggar and my skin, my bones, my blood, my guts covered the beggar as a skin now turning into rose petals that quickly turned to shit.

 

There was the sound of thunder. I was the beggar and the beggar was me.

 

I found myself now standing on a beach; the sun was baking the shit until it became like loaves of bread and peeled from me as if it were scabs and fed the army of ants, other selves who had no humility. They had come to witness my birth from the egg. As I stood on the egg shells, they became a puddle of faces laughing at me. As the ants continued pulling religious objects out of their anus to pay homage, they fed from my skin that was now bread.

 

Then I saw a woman rise from foam drifting on the ocean. As she approached in her chariot, I saw she was naked from the waist down with the body of the four elements. The chariot was being pulled by seven dragons. They passed me silently. She would not look at me.

 

As I began to chant a song that made my skin weep with blood, my feet grew into the ground as roots. I began to change into a tree until my arms, now branches, stretched upward and held the moon. As I held the moon in my branches, it became a mirror for the woman to see her reflection that our face laid on dark waters. She would always be wife, mother, and daughter and I would be the whore of the Heavens wandering in a primordial madness until I gather what I had spilled into my hands.

 

I would be a Whore of the Heavens until she changed into the Redeemer that would sit on my knee.

 

Until then, I would be auctioned into one body until the next serving in the mouths of dead and dreaming gods.

4^th EPILOGUE

ARCHON. "I must emphasis the importance of containment of the human will. If we do not restrict it's evolution, as humans would say, 'we'll be left in the dust.' It is imperative that measures be taken to keep the human will subject to our needs. Will this body of gods and goddesses become a source of irrelevance as we become self indulgent and bickering children and not continue a focus on the greater design? If we do not respond to this crisis, immediate and effectively, the human will manifest the twilight of the gods. Have you become ineffective, drunk on your self indulgence not realizing the danger that is creeping into every fabric of our existence? Death is coming to the gods and we walk blindly toward it. The human will is becoming like buzzards, they are circling us waiting to feed off our flesh instead of them being our sustenance. This governing body has reduced its effectiveness with petty bickering. We should not be our own enemies. Will we allow the human will to turn our own tactics against us?

 

5^th EPILOGUE

 

I am honored to make this address to the Reality Makers of the Human Consciousness. My esteem colleagues, know this, humans will become linguistic prisoners!

We must decide the parts human will play in the Stage World version of reality that they think they are mastering. We must prevent them from activating their brain to its maximum potential. We cannot allow them to turn the 64 code keys.

Therefore, we will create phrases that will cause a division in their mental processing. They will seek psychological assistance that we will be manipulating to continue the breakdown of their evolutionary process. Humans will not turn into gold!

Keep telling them, they have a mental disorder that needs to be treated. They have a disease of the heart for not knowing love and we will teach them; they have a disease of the mind, and we will stop the voices tormenting them (though it's our voices they hear, we'll just implant new voices; they are weak of the flesh, we will tell them sex is dirty unless performed within certain parameters, if they knew the truth of what they could achieve with sex, we all would be out of the god business.

We will project dreams into the humans' subconscious, we will instruct humans inwardly and outwardly.

And for those fools who dare to look within, journey within, it will be us they will be looking at!

We own their destiny.

Their brains will coordinate it's perception to our frequency. We will tell him what is and what isn't important.

We will be their authority who will place the seal of approval of where their mental focus should be.

We will create their idols in all forms of media and the arts so that humans will do our bidding like sheep.

I guarantee you this machine that is now going online to influence their thoughts, give them thoughts will make the everyday human schizophrenic. The drugs we will introduce into their everyday life, will give them the comfort of being plugged into our reality.

We will tell humans who they are!

 

SPEECH DELIVERD TO CONFERENCE OF BEINGS WHO ARE IN SERVICE TO SELF

6^th EPILOGUE

Meanwhile, in another place, a ripple passed through the cocoon as it stirred within. It felt as if a form was taking shape and felt its consciousness stretching to limits within the confine of the cocoon though it could not yet determine the shape it was taking.

"You seem disturbed," said the Voice speaking telepathically.

"Something is different. I seem to be taking a shape. A form I cannot distinguish. Is this part of the cure or a backlash from my being a planet? Tell me what is happening. Is my healing not progressing?"

"You are preparing for emergence."

"What am I that will come out of this cocoon?"

"That is not for us to determine. It will be based on your healing, the wandering of your imagination and what you have encoded from the original birthing."

"There is so much still that I do not understand but a part of me still senses truth. I sense you still will not reveal yourself to me, who are you, how many are you? What are you? Am I you?"

"You have so many questions."

"I want to understand why I could not maintain a cohesive consciousness as a planet."

"You are the answers."

"More riddles."

"Let us take you on another journey."

"Another guided tour. Why can't you just tell me? Why make it so complicated?"

"Why deny your potential," the Voice said.

It felt its form shifting in the cocoon. What it learned to call fear, it felt scratching at its insides and it could not measure the fear. The unknown, not knowing, even though it had been searching through memories, imaginations and stories it could not bring it all into fruition. Where did it fit in these pictures that were like snapshots of a life that it could not identify? Why were these images coming out of it? Were they being fed to it by the Voice? Were they events in its former life before being in this cocoon? How was it gathered into this cocoon after its consciousness was shattered when it could not maintain form as a planet? It could not remember. Attempting to fathom it caused a great pain as if it was being ripped to shreds so it quickly stopped concentrating to bring these images into a coherent understanding or a flowing series of events that lead to a clear moment about its existence. "So what adventure are we going on this time?"

"Don't sound so reluctant. We could do this another time."

"Time is so compartmentalize. I don't like the limitations but I understand the necessity of it to grasp certain things so let us proceed then."

 

CHAPTER ONE - ANOTHER BEGINNING

 

Roland entered the room interrupting Michael's as he was sitting curled on the couch writing in his journal.

 

"Sister, you've been sitting in that chair, staring out the window, like some invalid."

"Just thinking about what happened in New York. Most people will not believe me."

"Does it matter? I've always seen the power in you, I know you don't but you will one day stop being so skeptical."

"You know if the revelations are true, there is a great darkness coming to the world. And if it isn't true, then maybe I had a nervous breakdown and was just in a state of denial."

"Sister, when you become this alien diva; the world better watch out, because s/he is back. Besides, you are my sistah, and Mother loves you no matter what you become. You do seem different sometimes. I think you're starting to get that otherworldly glow about you. But, hey, as long as you keep me in the light, I don't care what you turn into."

"You always believed me no matter what."

"Just remember who your friends are when you're all powered up."

"Too think, I went to New York, thinking I'd find the man of my dreams, a singing career, write a play instead, my mind got shattered."

"But you're putting the pieces back together in the right order. If you could only see what a lot of us see."

"And that scares me what you see and what I see."

"Well, don't stare out that window forever, there is a world waiting for you."

"What about you? Are you staying in bed all day again or going tipping."

"I'm calling in some trade tonight. Mother has needs and until my husband moves here, someone has to keep mother happy."

"I'm not sure if the husband will like you tipping and dipping before he gets here. Well, do what you want, just don't let me hear the whip and the ass slapping."

"Sister what are you trying to say. Mother has peculiar taste."

"I've seen your tricks."

"It sounds like sister is drying up inside. I know you're going to be this alien diva but still you're in human form, and a little dick never hurt anybody. I'll loan you one of my tricks."

"I think I'll probably just read a book."

"Sister needs to go take care of needs. You're still physical which means, the flesh is willing."

"I'm not a whore."

"I'm not either but that doesn't mean I have to live like sex doesn't exist. That's why the world is so fucked up because they make sex into something evil. The world was created in a sexual act. Who am I to deny creation? When you are tired of being a mad black woman, you need to sit down and finish writing that show we are going to do together. Mother has needs, mother needs the spotlight. You know, since we both have needs, though sister like to sit on hers until the second coming, I think we should call the show, "Dark Divas!"

"Dark Divas? It has interesting connotations."

"Whatever it has, make sure Mother has her moments," Roland said laughingly as he left the room.

"That's the problem; there's been a lot of sex without love." Tears surfaced in his eyes. "No one can ever know," he said softly to himself. "I didn't pass the reality test. No one knows Michael left his body and I came through. But I must continue this masquerade as Michael wanders in the lower worlds?"

A chill pass through him as he looked out and saw the setting sun.

"Who will I tell that the Old Ones are waking up? Who should I tell that a dark planet of ancient sorcerers is returning? Should I say something to Michael's friends about his ancient love that is a vampire who has opened the door to enter this reality? What if Michael doesn't return to claim this body? What if we cannot create the uni-mind before humans are harvested? We are living the dark nights of the First Soul? What will the dark nights of this Spirit bring for humankind? Will anyone believe that the war in Heaven not only started in spirit and was built into the mind of man but also is happening through time? Will Michael return and master the corridors of time? Will he accept me and merge with me or will be exiled again?"

He closed his eyes to hold back the tears. He saw a flash of lightning.

He smiled to himself.

He heard the Voice speak, "Michael is the nexus. Michael is the Life. He will become the perfect feminine consciousness in a male form."

 

I go to the Father through the Christ and in his name, I take my problems

I go to the Father through the Christ and in his name, I call upon the Christ for Love and Protection.

I go to the Father through the Christ and in his name, I call upon the Christ for Love and Salvation.

I go to the Father through the Christ and in his name, I create a circle of light, those things that are not part of the Christ consciousness, in his name I now dispel.

PSYCHIC ACTIVITY REPORT

This is Al and Walter bringing you the latest update with Psychic Activity Report. Mu Universe is on pins and needle with the latest announcement that Michael has made it through 165 dimensions. Once he makes it passed the 365^th dimension, he is once again able to ascend and become Uthra. Currently, rumors are amiss that the Archons are planning a major assault on Michael's consciousness so that he will not escape their labyrinth creation. We all here at Psychic Activity Report wish Michael the best on his journey through light and darkness to become a Male Mother.

 

We now return you to our regular schedule programming…'The Whore of the Heaven.'"

DEATH IS ONLY THE BEGINNING

Byron came into Michael's bedroom. He looked at him strange. "Are you okay?"

 

I am just tired and a bit hungry."

 

"I'll fix you something to eat."

 

He left the room. A cold breeze passed through the room. The room grew dark and ominous. Seven faces hidden in shadows faded into view. It was the Archons.

 

"You may hide your breast and camouflage that face but we see you for what you are."

"Then you know I don't take kindly to interference."

"This is no longer your reality."

S/he smiles. "And it is no longer yours. You fools woke him up. He was not yours to awaken. And now I have to come through sooner than I anticipated."

"It is no longer our time."

"I am not bound to anyone's time."

"Mind Walker, this body is not yours."

"I suggest you better look deeper. I have been hidden for a long time."

"We will stop you. Your sexual appetites almost destroy us before. We will not allow your pain to torment us. You have turned the garden into a graveyard."

"And I can destroy this reality if you try to move against me. I still know the words that bind this reality together."

"The world will not welcome you. Your sufferings kept us all blind."

"He is the way. He is the path I will walk to be human."

"You cannot have him as vessel for your consciousness. You hide in many symbols, many religions, many scriptures; but we know your countenance. You leave death and destruction where ever you are. Every time you dance near the flame; everyone burns. Your fire is not a healing fire."

"You have made my life into lies. You are the ones who have enslaved my passions and made them prisons for my selves to dwell in."

"You are an abomination."

"I may not be the ultimate orgasm but I'm close."

"We will stop you. A black hole cannot become sentient."

"This body is mine. It has been made in time. Even you know that, even you fear that, even you know I know your sacred names brother; I know your names."

"But we also know this body cannot contain your full countenance and you will have to sleep and use Michael's memories to operate until his body has been encoded."

"Don't think that for one second I will be asleep at the wheel."

"There are many curves on that dark road you will be traveling Lilith."

"I can always count on a brother's love."

 

The voices became silent. The faces faded. The light returned to the room.

 

"It has begun," Michael said in a feminine voice. Without another word, Michael went to the bathroom and undressed. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. The male sex was gone. A wound was between his legs. The face was slimmer, prettier. The eyes were slanted. Female breasts were forming."

 

"I cannot wear this form." He concentrated and the breast began to retreat and the penis came out of the wound.

 

Half hour later, Byron had fixed something to eat. Byron sat quietly on the edge of the bed watching Michael pick at its food. Byron sensed something different. He didn't want his eyes to believe what it saw only what he wanted to see. He saw Michael. He did not see this androgynous being before him. No matter how he looked directly at Michael, he seemed to fade out of view and he saw a feminine being with long black hair and almond shaped eyes. He was thinking Michael's weirdness was getting to him.

"So I realized I had to do what was best for you…I'm sorry. I contacted your family. They sent you a plane ticket to return home. Gerald and Rachel are coming to get you in the morning to take you to the airport. We'll all take you there. By the way, your mother said for me to tell you to come home, she loves you." Byron left for awhile.

 

Hours passed. Michael lost track of time. Voices were floating in and out of each other and occasionally one voice would rise above the others.

 

The Voice spoke, "Your reptilian mind struggles for survival. As you took on the human form, there were various creators involved which meant you inherited all human conditioning so your true identity is still dormant."

 

Through my eyes I could see this face, this body wasn't mine but I took on this physical form to have passageway through this world. It was frightening attempting to bring it all into perspective while other creators were playing mind games and my light was their prize.

 

My reptilian nature was damn determined to be in the forefront of all my activities. Yet, I could not deny its influence. But then again, there were other entities I've been whose memories were surfacing. I've been amphibious, I've been Insectoid, I've been a plant being, I've been the elements, I've been a planet, a universe and all are being condensed into this present life. My dark night of the Soul isn't over yet. And then, I know that the dark night of the Spirit will come within a few years. I must go into Imagination to deal with it.

 

There were three knocks at the door before Michael responded.

 

Gerald, Bryon and Rachel stood there. He looked at them quizzically and then a thought crossed his mind; they were symbolic of the ones who were coming. For now, they were the man, woman and child.

 

But they were also marked for death. He knew what he had to do. He hugged each one and whispered something in their ears; causing their souls to separate from their body. He absorbed their souls like he was breathing in air. For now, he would send them to an inner world until he dealt with the demon that had marked them.

 

An angel of light woke up in the body of the tree.

 

"I forgot my key," Larry said. Gerald and Rachel were with him.

 

Gerald said stammering a bit, "I just want you to know that I finally listened to the voice of my heart…I love you."

 

Rachel and Byron spoke in unison, "We love you two."

 

Gerald. "We've come to take you home."

 

Michael smiled as he walked out the door with him. A thoughtform wrapped around him and spoke, "Death will become The Life."