Antarctican Pyramids

White and Black People come from different galaxyies.
This is not to denigrate anyone in any way-
-If anything, the Aryan Norse are the outsiders here.
Black People came with the planet, so to speak-
White People got dropped off by the Mothership
at least, from a certain point of view.

Forgive me for writing such utter madness.

You see, my name is Bastante Solipsis Marquez, and I come from the future.  Your future, as a matter of fact.  It's the only future you've got.

Dear reader, you ARE the collective consciousness.  I'm talking to you.  Dear old transpersonal you-  Hey transpersonal all-of-you-out-there, I'm talking to YOU!!  The social collective.  The hive.  The swarm.  The all-of-us-IAM together inhabiting physicality as best as we know how.  Hey Collective Consciousness, check this out:

 The art of living the dream by doing the least damage is

the art of sustainability.

Sustainability, in the end, must begin with the art of breath and posture.  Letting go of each moment, embracing each moment, letting go of each moment, embracing each moment, letting go of the past, beginning again...

Breath and posture require time and some space, which means we need to invent a future we are quickly running out of.  It's not so much that we are running out of time, or even space, for that matter, as much as we are running out of story to believe in.  So we need to invent a story to believe in.  Which is what i'm doing.  In a way that you can relate to, and overstand, and believe in.  Which will give us some more time...

to dream.

And collective, I'm here to reassure you that we are dreaming our way into a good dream, the very best dream imaginable, and we've been given pretty clear instructions about how to make it happen in the most nonviolent, peaceful, mutually prosperous way, because after all it's all of us or none of us.

Black People might have actually come from another planet, after all.  I don't really know.  What I do know is this:  There is only one possible future before us, and that is the future in which we balance our culture with our ecology, which requires us to overcome our fabricated culture of death and instead re-create our way into a culture of life.  This requires celebration!  This requires a Jubilee!

Sustainable ecological management is, and has always been, economics.  Management of the global household, so to speak.  And forgiveness of the past is a moral prerequisite to happiness...

Which means that collectively, sustainable economics requires debt forgiveness.  This ancient economic reality is actually included in the Bible, believe it or not.

Its time to forgive debts, people.  Mine and yours.  This is the gospel of Christ.  This is the Good News.  There may be a touch of Judgment Day in it, but only those Chosen Sacred Damned will fail to be saved.  The rest of us are only required to forgive.  That's the rite, and the initiation, and the sacred fire, and the sacred flame, and the Holy Cross we are required to bear.

Our dharma is to forgive.  This is the only way out of Matrix, this is the only way out of the path of death.  Everything that isn't forgiveness is murder, for everything that doesn't forgive fails to forgive itself, and consequently destroys itself, which is what our culture is currently doing, and getting damn  good at it, too damn good if you ask me.

This is my point:  If you finance my education, I will build you a school.  If you already have a school, allow me to preach the gospel.  And the gospel goes like this:

Forgive one another, forgive one another, love one another, and forgive one another.

Let us forgive ourselves.  Jesus Christ Amen.

History is no longer being written.  History is being created, through our imagination.

Watch how it works:

Sanskrit is far, far, older than this solar system.  So is Hebrew.  These languages were brought to this planet.  Go figure.  Antarctica is the ice-covered ancient civilization of Atlantis, and I know, because I was there.  Antarctica, I mean.  Atlantis too, but so long ago I don't remember anymore.    Deep beneath Antarctica's ice are huge pyramids which store energy and are still operational.  They infected my dreams and my reality, which is why I am now an open channel.

I don't know what the truth is, and I don't know how
 a mere story I'm telling myself about the truth
is any different from the truth.
Not that they aren't worlds apart:
Rather, I am inherently built
to deny that any difference could possibly exist
between my story and the truth.
I want to both believe in the truth
and believe in my story about the truth at the same time,
 even when (especially when) my story about the truth isn't true.  

I want to believe in my beliefs even when they're not true.  When the truth conflicts with my beliefs, sometimes i go with my beliefs.

For this crime, and many others, I need to forgive myself.

And then, I need to aspire very hard to go with the truth, even when it conflicts with my beliefs.

My story about the truth is very rational, and thus safe.  My story about the truth goes like this:  I am a relatively comfortable, mostly harmless insane person.

This is my story about the truth.  I want very much to believe it, even though it's actually not particularly true.  It's not particularly false, either, though, is my point.  So why not believe it?

The truth is irrational, improbable, unlikely, and impossible:  The only sustainable option is forgiveness, and love, by which life can prosper and the Death Worshippers and their Chosen Sacred Damned can be overthrown.

The truth is this.  Art is the Truth, and the Function of Art is to Become the Truth, and the Nature of Art is to overthrow the truth with the Truth, which then becomes the truth, which then is overthrown.

The primal Adya Shakti is creative.  The truth is perpetually being created, through art, on the palette of the cosmos.

And now you know a little bit about the kind of character I am.  I am a mildly insane writer, who suffers from the mild insanity of a language-using mind.  This language-using mind is well aware of the vast conglomeration of other language-using minds that are willing and able to be entertained and informed by the content of said language.  It is for reasons such as this that I write.

The truth is that I am not from this planet.  the truth is I am an alien hybrid starchild, sent here from the Pleiades.  The truth is I am writing fiction, and history, and a poem all at once.

The truth is Quetzalcoatl has returned.