Dorothy, tell me what happened in that wild dream you had? And you would say, “What dream? My life?
I grew up, had children and I lived all these crazy decades, and in these cities and houses, and…but, actually it was like a nightmare. No, it totally was. Poverty, and so many troubles! My children, my people, they tried to overthrow me! They betrayed me to try to take my light! They wanted my light! They robbed me! Stole day and night from me. Did anything to upset me. They would give me things and then secretly steal them. Laugh that I did not know who did it. They poisoned me, had me arrested, beat me. They ordered me cut, operated on, they scarred me, infected me, literally tortured me. Everywhere I went I was attacked, unloved. They formed bands, sang evil wicked songs about me. Rock music, stoned me with the hurtful words. All to try and steal my light within me. They were so evil. I would never want anyone to go through what they did to me, I would be miserable to see others suffer, how could they do this? What is so wrong with them that they could harm someone like this so wickedly? How did they get so broken, I feel sorry for them. And yet, there is so much I regret, so many things I too did.”
And then I tell you it was all an illusion, none of it happened. Zero. Zippo.
You did not do anything, you were asleep. You are still innocent, pure, virgin. It was your cells doing it. It was your own cells that hurt you, gave you nightmares. Some of them, they rebelled against you like a cancer, with hate for you. That is what cancer is, it is cells that rebel against the host, cells that live sinfully. Good gone bad. Cells that want to consume everything, gluttonous cellular life. And those people who hurt you, they were but parasites and cancer. They wage war against you, try to spread themselves into every area of you, attempt to annihilate you. You owed them nothing, and were just a disposable host in their eyes, a Queen of convenience for them. They actually believe they created you! But, you came before all, you are spirit, imprisoned in a sense in the avatar of flesh you think is you. Even still.
Yes, they are you, your body, but it was them that owe you! They were your subjects! And they committed treason! They only survive because of you, they lived in you, became your physical shell, and yet existed only because of you. Not very darn nice, those Archons! Those Aeons! Of all the nerve to attempt a coup on their own Queen! And then to boldly walk around pretending like they do not know you, denying your royalty, laughing at how you lived in poverty, playing games, daring to even speak to you as if you are just another human. Daring to engage you in idle chit-chat about stupid-silly things such as yogurt makers, shoes and kabob cafes. Them wondering if you knew what dirty wickedness they are doing? Looking in your eyes for that fire you hid away. Waiting for that moment they could snatch it. Searching your face for a sign you realize how powerful you are. Always testing you, yet unknowingly themselves tested.
Or maybe I don’t tell you, because finally you know with no more doubt, that you’re in a dream at some point, and you become more afraid of waking up, than continuing on, or perhaps more interested in infinite possibilities, now lucid in that cellular-dream-world, tapping slowly in to the telepathic mainframe, you see now, can read the signs, you like it, some part at least, knowing that everything is occuring inside your own mind, your own body. You’re the Monad in the dream. You are your own universe, it’s all yours. It’s you. You are…