255 Perdition

Wardaw can ward off!

There is a way to understanding the World and its metaphorical associations in a given era of lateral thinking. There are many to blame for misinterpreting given depth of data yet hold sacrosanct to avoiding friendship in speech towards an ultimatum of void abstract jargon not coalescing together in each owns space and time, as they presume all philosophy holds. Whether we are taking into mind a depth of thought that shrouds gently at pervasions of individual complexity beyond creation of a true collaboration, then until we have made a contract with someone, we know nothing of others hellish experiences. Once found in generic space we can feel lost to celebrate the unthoughtful paradox of such obsolete nonsense there is nothing like the personal touch, beyond embodiment of shit, sex and smells. As if we are in extremism of either possession of cloth or spirit. The cloth of spirit allows us to deny fortune of others, but good blood types stick together. There is not a monocity of an ovular practice that takes command in places without people, but round spaces, that are thus.

Once upon a time a boy met a girl, and that was that.

Once upon a time a man met a woman and wondered if it were the boy and girl similarly, that had met each other all that time ago?

When our conjunction of met space in our dreams coalesces, then our algorithms sit joined together to know we have both come full circle to understand the complexities were right of each other’s lessons. There is no mother and father of a man, but a father of a man, and a mother of a woman. Why? Because possession leads on, in the cycle of dilution of mixed blood raised the wrong way before the virtues of family life allow individualisms of each other’s own expression of owned genome, and yet there is always the blessing of one conjoined to another through a superfluity of knowing each other, has a twin soul.

 In the 5th Dimension of Love and Light to God, there seem very few who understand John 11:28, ‘to do as God does, he will reward you as God was rewarded’, with a heavenly halo of being within the virtues of a sometimes seemingly hellish World, of ultimatums and broken-down relationships. When someone thinks they can decide for you whether you are worthy of their World, then think what they tried so hard to teach you of their own. The unfortunate news is, that once we realise our cosmos is only within our own minds, then we do not have to go back to a virtual World of replenishing, and regenerating our own energy, but our personal relationships against dogma, unforeseen obstacles, and make space for continual 24 hour healing. When once someone said are we going backwards? I think it was subordinate laziness that stopped them ever growing up.

When there is a dichotomy, one has no right to divide, by colour, sex, age, relationship or past virtue. If there is a problem, try writing down your own analogy of why it takes so much to put up a fight against yourself, before peace is ridden. There is always peace in the heart of man, but competition for health does not look or feel healthy, especially for an ill-diagnosed victim, whose own criminality is presumed before friendship of spirit. Words are spiritual so here are some healing words.

When you raise a child, imagine they are you, but they are always directed by themselves. When accepting a friend try to understand their ultimate prerogative. When making acquaintances, try and be kind and courteous. If England’s lack of spiritual command goes downhill, then so will their physical health.

At the end of the day, sometimes bridges cannot be repaired, because one side is not willing to do for the other what they expect for themselves, a form of colloquial selfishness, and that is the only commonality, among common man today.

Yet with seeking one’s inherent own self, as a bystander to poor condescension, it will help to know, if it were your job to keep picking up the pieces of others lives, it is not their life you are living, but everyone needs a gentle hand up.

God bless you all.

ABX

My Fathers’, I love you.