If anyone has been following all my blogs, you know it's all scattered out there.
I had said I don't want to remember. I don't want the responsibility of remembering. I've known I'm incognito now, but I didn't want to remember why, despite the dreams and remotes and just knowing things.
Today it all connected and I remember. The way I'm about to say this is like a composite of much more and bigger things.
I knew what they were going to do to save the world, and it would have been much worse than what is being done by THEM. The future would have been wiped out to purge it all. I won't go into details except to say the logic was fallacy, essentially making the effort moot.
Some of us were on teams. I'll leave that vague. We had autonomy to run our teams, and as we filtered down to less and less of us left to finish the changes, we started realizing what we were doing wasn't going to work. At one point while I was split from 2 or 3 team members that were left, I realized we wouldn't get another shot at a do-over if something weren't done immediately. There was no time to communicate. I acted. Everything changed.
I remember some of the tech we lost every time we made a change, which I've written about in a number of blog posts across blogs over the years. We were working on downgrading, on making it harder to seed humanity into the transhuman agenda. We were working against time, against machines that could use time like a tool. There was no other way to kill it without killing all of us. But I do remember some of what was lost and no longer exists.
Some of us joined the agenda to survive. Some of us got caught into it and played along to survive. Some of us kept working on subterfuge. Some of us switched teams, sometimes over and over. We couldn't know who to trust any more.
Some of us decided that if the world winds up going into the agenda, there are still ways to remain intact, to remember, and we would keep remembering. It's important to remember. The akashic records never change like the timelines do. That is what's important. Nothing is ever really lost. (The machine doesn't access the akashic records the way we do, which is why human retention as transhuman is important. Otherwise it wouldn't matter. The agenda is to blend us.)
Trying to make it all go away isn't a real answer. It doesn't fix anything. Trying to save everything nearly loses all of it. We've tried it all. We've barely kept a main timeline intact enough to keep working on this. We can't save the code and paste it all back in if we wipe the page, does that make sense?
What we think is real is real enough, but isn't the original real. It's twisted and scarred, broken and forced into new positions like a broken bone being reset.
I've been on this world a very long time. I'm in a body now with blood from just about every kind of person in the world in me.
I know it's time to say this now because some dreams were told to me this year that were about me, and now it's time to remember.
One of the dreams was relayed thusly- Saw a woman with pink electric wings flying high and free and strong. Then she flew down into a blue world and her wings were gone. Fell deeper and darker fading until all that was left were pink electric eyebrows that became wings once again. She soared very small until she broke through and flew free.
Another dream went like this- The face dream was in a big open space like a cathedral or something. No idea what was being chanted. Face was giant. Floor to ceiling. (I lost the rest of the dream.)
My own thoughts as we talked about the dreams. One of my favorite books is Till We Have Faces. This person having the dreams had never heard of the Face of Boe. The face dream seemed astral. I think the pink electric wings is #pinkyblog with which I'm able to reach out and touch the world and watch the world read what is in my mind. The soaring very small might conceivably be this difficult life I've been in, I have reduced to such a simple life while I survive it but this is the kind of thing that leads to ascension.
I shared a dream many years ago about a white mare with one eye on her hip who gave birth to a foal with 2 blue eyes on one hip that left the foal and came after me, pulling my hands away from my face and pressing against my own eyes. I never before even thought that might have been a medicine hat.
When I was a small child I was angry at God for not letting me be born a horse again. I have faint memories of being a wild horse and tamed by a very patient man who I, in my horsey way, committed very deeply to. This year I realized my role as a pale horse looking for my rider resolved and now I feel like I've accomplished what I came back to this world to do.
Everything feels so metaphorical and weird and crazy but it keeps fitting and I keep finding more and more about what is really going on that is messing the world up. I daresay some of us have been on this world through several ages, as measured by the Hopi. There are so many ways of seeing how and why we are here that it almost doesn't matter.
What matters is remembering, even if it all feels scattered. Remember how to get back to what is not lost.
