𝙽𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛: 𝙼𝙲𝙼𝙻𝚇𝚇𝚇𝙸𝚅 𝟸𝟾𝟷𝟷𝟾𝟺/𝟸𝟻𝟸𝟾

Nov’ 1984BE  &  2528AD &
LCD Also known as LCD

Other variations:
MCMLXXXIV [ MCDXL ] / 1440AD4417632007492  
- Vikram Samvat2040
- Shaka Samvat1905
- Kali Yuga5084

& Further detail here.

The dates above represent Nature of Time, Or the illusion of Time altogether, duality, trinity, quaternity, quintinity, hexinity, etc - and are often used on ships to align data and code with Complex-’Time’ Geometry and Perpetual Creation of Space. The dates shown [ Nov’ 1984BE & 2528AD ] are modified [ BE to AD & AD to BE ] to represent  just two illusions that follow Novelty theory and Timewave Zero through the various experiences of sentient life, in this case represented by common reference points, AD & BE, that are like two parallel loops in lines of Tao, which at the farest reaches of the edge thread like DNA & many drivers often crossover during loops. Tao is the natural order of the universe whose character one's human intuition must discern in order to realize the potential for individual wisdom. This intuitive knowing of "life" cannot be grasped as a concept; it is known through actual living experience of one's everyday being. Thus why many riders still use shared voyance when guided by glass. 
What follows are Visual Keys from Akashic Source Recordings
at a range of levels in paradigm trails from Earth during Nov’ 1984;

Various Chapters & Verses:

We was Pyratin’ on tabs, it was like’ bɛduɪn & vapour techa, the LCDs followed the XR Glass, it was real black magic and the box float talkies would be there even without the glass, showing the multiple optimal realities of 5D earth that we were able to travel to. There were many variety of gemstone, I had a couple of long Earth blade books a few chapters in marakata sphaṭika javā, a few more in lapis lazuli and one of them was bound with plants from one of my fav’ patches in Eden and a wood seal in center, it was like Genisis briefly mentions in our number 2:8 gan b ē'den mi qe'dem. The pages when written on were like projectors that would light up fresh streams of sourcehexcode from the river in various languages that appear like long reels of hexagrams rolling down a page, and to the touch as if braille, and similar to Morse with frequencies and then it uncoiled lifting from the tab and recoded, as map’d spells & the latest Indexes, and we would quill from thirds all day & night between road trips, we used the XR Glass most of the time, often taking amon breaks into the jungle to sit with tribes and old visitors who were passing though, we also like to use various traditional brushes, they were really impressive lifeforms that followed the path of celestial objects, really operateinking as 2:23 bone of my bones, I used to rhyme with them when I wrote like, pearls for my curls, we had planetary rings that rolled in the rock with ancient of jewels locked in circle & spiraling round through the long tail trail with feather minds bello’wing echo lines, those moulted flight feathers were primary wing-feat-hers that fell from the paradice birds on route from their travels, the Quill body was 5D intellapathic and would wrap round my hand over hand which was like and flesh of my flesh; as in the much older gen Quill there were Hyperdermic needles that connected, jack’ed in to the writers palms down into the bone marrow, and Quills had names from birth and were matched with writers by fate as they had been painted into reality by the writer before they arrived on Earth, so; this one will be called ‘woman,’ for she was taken out of man; was a tattoo that many of the writters shared when first bio’psy was ink’d, which used to be an invasive procedure especially in Adam’s day, but during my years it has all gone super tech and was more like the repairing you would see in films during the 20th, those rolls were kinda on point with that technology, the tattoo had many meme trails, and Adams bone re:animations became highly potent amulets that monks wore in the higher river beds, most the Quills I was pair’d with were female and the verses they would write in wild prose became timeless, I was just the diver, get it? And the female writers were always creating time because they would write in optimal timeline reality, using the source ink from the body of, in the age of Aquarius who was Zeus' wine-pourer into the river, so they obtained first contact from “ink to earth” and bottled straight from source. I was an amanuensis for many years we followed numbers our whole lives, during the early’ears I would study the details of synchronicity, the number of lines, the words on those lines,  the timestamp on each manuscript from an artist & other observation like the number shots taken, I would go into the record of rings that were worn by many travelers, and see the code that was echoing to the collective in the nature scripts to source that revolved around celestial obs while the elders would follow the traveler from higher planes of existance, fresh sentient scripts and languages were being relay’d all the time, and once translated by higher rhelms, hats would go on short missions to those paradigms and bring back old dynasty artifacts after walking though the various mirrors that led to those dimentions. In the sky we would observe Aquarius pouring starcode liquidia the sound of celestial songs and fish often into pairs would jump from the river to Andromeda. As we observed higher and higher dimentions in source you would see that the definition between concepts of male and female would merge into one, and there would be no real seperation between and it was all like frequency that would appear as it wished or just natually, into the tops of known experience which was like actual magic that we couldnt actually understand without being able to hear or experience the frequencies of it, I could try to describe that further but, ______

I would sit and try to work out how to explain why bad things still happen on Earth, why was compassion and empathy such a missing narrative and how to do something to change that reality, and save sentient lifeforms and I tried to understand it through the teaching of The Eightfold Path & Four Noble Truths, that was always my goal I guess, to stop  sentient suffering with art, it would be overdrive goal, it’s why the Dao is often pictured above the human spirit like source in many painting, a circle above representing divinity, and the connecting circles of life and death that balence in perfect harnmony without suffering if there is equality and compassion in full, something that I always chase through my experiences wondering in various paradigms trying to find and connect various patterns in consiouness that would raise the level of vibration on Earth to that of levels in 12+ higher reality that Arcturians have mastered, which is hard to do, when earth is always seemingly hanging at a low vibration, I would go an be with the soundsystem and be in deep gong the frequencies of holy riddims, that rattle chest an beem tuned like guitar path as we all started to create better unified prose on the river with out work, we were able to connect all these dots and words, forming stronger meme and eventually those would flow on and manifest into earth reality, and were were always wondering though those dimentions picking up keys and opening doors throughout time, never ending our hope that all the house would wake up together and a global awakening was imminent. I was hoping always to be saved as I walked through like levels through time, sometimes causing my own awakenings to happen and opening many doors for others, I would arrive on various pages on reels of LCD, preying for someone to know who I was, in essence trying to find myself in the field of life that would speak to me like sage with infinite wisdom, like the master that would appear to gurus, and I understood more as I walked alone that syncronicity is the Tao’s way of remaining anoymous, essentially how it remains able to keep treads of experience linking with out breaking reality and finding oneself is as simple as looking deep into a mirror as Tao is contained with the the edges of ones own mind, and often I found the one, and would see them inside the soul as if they were a vapour like an aura protecting me and always with good news, even though my fear of truth was sometimes fragile in these times where words had lost all meaning, was planet earth doomed, it seems so more than ever. I gave up all voice in my own mind, knowing that the only real words that ment anything now would be spoken like magic from my own heart, like it was thought that could not be fool‘d, and I would hear it speak in wildest of language that is only understood by stars & advanced higher dimentional beings, who I trust kinda like how I trust dogs more than some fokes who seem to hide secret technology on this planet that appears to be hacking minds or something at times, maybe its just the human condition, but evidence is out there that suggests otherwise, focusing on heart based meditation seemed to be key to finding zen mind, beegin’ers mind, and I would sit with angels that I watched from my windows, as if old friend had returned, like Sadhu they would sit in the silence that I craved in my mind, knowing i had given up all hope for truth in words finally, it can drive a rebel geza mad, trying to save the world from the inside out, you have to start accepting there might be invisible folks out there who are walking the same path as you, and I rolled like that for a long time, working in mind, unlocking doors like a ninja walking through voids that lead to silence, being more in tune with the devine comedy was key, because if you do not beelive in the vine, then it can feel like the bad guys are winning, when you are focused on the making the gods laugh, as a sonic rasta rat detective sent from the future on missions with raffa and the gang, then everything starts to weave together agin in a harmony, it was the my key to fighting lower times in my feelings, of getting down abeaut the world I sore, even having the tv on in the background and listening to news when I was back in the west would make me rage, the news, and you realise how that pulls you into their narratives, when I was better of not listening to one more word of their junk narratives and timelines, when I was out of it, even not having a phone for a year, it was the best time for my mind to really find peace, I imagine that I met at a higher level many friends on the routes I walked across this planet, I always had this strong inner voice that was angry, mad about all the terrible things that do not need to happen, just simple things like seeing dogs on the streets of India in the worst nightmare of hell, would drive my rage and sadness inside, its very stressful watching sentient life on earth, at all level of society, and I was always talking to the void about why and what and how were we going to save it, which was always an addiction for my internal narrative, I rejected everything about mainstream society since I can remember, and valued the most important things that made sence to me, I feel more connected to my grandfather now in the most folk dream of ways, it should have been more full realised when he was here, now its like I’m walking in his footsteps to find the most wild of folk rhythems to base archaic memories from the future off with a 40s cap.

I was pretty much, mute before a full moon 5 months ago, since then words are streaming faster than I can really keep up pace with [Oct’2562] better ever than never, I was always visual, words only now seem to flow like someone rubbed my lamp in heaven. 
I’m most interesting in writing that can flip paradigm switches as if like magic,  where it’s as if Akira turns a sharp corner down an ally way in Neo Tokyo, sometimes when I’m writing it feels like channeling, as if someone in higher space is sending notes from the future, and my minds eye often escapes abovethe port where the landscape drives behind the seats of our souls on screen, its like the movie visualisation that takes your mind out from out where, like the scroll that reels from top beelow,  and how to . hit those more magic notes on visual jazz that to my memes feels like techesoterica which proves in more and more abundent ways to me that we do live in a world that is more wild than we suppose and realising that while an internal narrative of court jester comedy is they way forward for me intermass the ashram, wild ribbions of thought that make life a bit more fun to bee inside than getting angry with corporations and what have yurh that can get a geeaza down, and out in Rome to Bangkok no less, mad but more in the write frame of mind for writing a black rose zen book, i read about AG and other adventures in Bangkok the beats talked . about, and I read others about folks that got lost or found here, and there, where the rum goes. Maintaining a constant pirate ship in my skull was the best thing that ever happen’d a mystic told me abeaut it, it was the most healing mindset i found in life and it gave me new ideas about zen and how to ride the waves of time in mind like its easy to find with a fin,  ships travel long distances slowly, kinda how i think about art and manifestation of reality creating itself, you meet big’er fish and they feed yurh crew,  we formed into tight circles i think more prevelent than ever since 2012, when time became a singular experience i think, where all souls travel in paradigms that unravel into new worlds of space that were written into the books of the future as if it was heading back to, from source where everything was in key like it shouldda bee’n 

I remember a satori like the jesters book of magic tricks unfolding, a pack of cards, that shot out from my soul, explosion slow motion afterlife cascading across time, all the colours shapes and images drawn again waiting to be played or found again. 

i have so many reminders on my phone, i wish i could just have it allready out like a map from my third eye written in spiritual tech, its why i want our spiritual techno back now, so i can find the way, to wherever it is we were all’f going in words. i dont enjoy feeling like our future has been stolen from us in technology, we should have all the latest cyberwares now, it was vital to the survival of planet earth, its the worst thing that its used against us in war like ways, when all we want it for is healing and expansion of spirit mindsoul... and it seems like we are not allow that because money takes a priority in this world and people need to make money out of tech before it can just be released for free to even the most genius mind on the streets of, where his avatar could beem to an outpost in, to help someone find a, and pick up some new skills, make a livin’ instead of the terror world of jobs and corporate production that we live in like a prision and you know,  fuck what a nightmare.   ‘while many are lost in videogames and apps that waste time like its a good way to relax in vapid pixel ashes. Where is all this stuff thats ment to be saving the world? what is the point in this existance without that ? and why has it all been washed into the black holes of time never to bee seen or experienced untill it becomes a product of sick minds from _

This Spiritual Techno Issue, is the main reason my Anarcho Zen Mind has been working overtime, why are we living in the Year 2020 and still on laptops from 1984. I think when the second world war ended, many folks thought the future would be a free world, and it seems that none of the following generations were onboard with that plan, and instead choose to turn the human into a battery like device, which was kinda what the bad guys had planed right chaps? The War On Consciousness  was a frightening reality for me, many many years ago. Zen Anarchy was the way to make sure I made it and I had to fight for my third eye. You know some folks out there talk about this galactic slave trade, and i dont like that idea, but better galactic than government or corporate, right. i fink like trade now, take a while to accept that, but what is a collective if you dont accept the fact that old guard are watchin, its why I trusted the arcturians, they teach you mind control and down to the most minimal of zen memes - Anar Arch Arc Ana Anan Ang A etc. simple letter forms  can’t be fucked with huh Anon Alp, Ap, Ax .....  they were were there wen i needed help in my battles with the more negative entities out there for me at the time, real or not i dont know, projections, reality, todays different then it used to be when i first started, many out there seem to have highly possitive experiences, my one was more dark, i think its just my nature coming from a background that is very hippy from 60s anti war, vietnam kinda counter culture and wondering how to just end the madness of men with a corporate agenda, now im kinda like middle fingers up and ripping the piss like theblackest of jester genie lab rats who riped open the timelords book of spells for the anarcho archaic revival... terrence mkenna really does bring me back down to earth when it comes to more wild tracendental wonderings about alien life and mushroom communications, i love all that and . experiment with it endlessly in this world where the normal is slowly fading away and becomeing more accepted without it being like a page out of the daily mail of consip’tree hips of jokes for the map of wonderland in _ im wondering most about my crew and the mystical creature we called the cardboardboss, and how frequencies and sound in music are like pluggin into subconsious narratives for you heart that aint really interested in words anymore, theres a link for me in zen mind, and heart feeling, both know silence and crave it. Mckenna was the best at making it all make sence in a classic super geek way that i trust like hes a deity baisicly to me and he can take the piss out of the bad guys better than anyone i know, which was good medicine for me, you can only fight bad guys for so long inside, till they all fade away, and you find inner peace so you can be at peace with those around you,   

I get upset thinking about how many others may have fallen on the field of battle fighting the war on consiousness, i imagine many have, i never give up for them, always hoping im clearing the way for others to free their own minds in someeway,  like ideas that are shared in the collective conscious, i think to think that there are lighthouses that are the best minds, most empathic folks out there, and we are all connected like the yogis all talked about, and its true . right but imagine how much healthy’er and productive it would be with our spiritual techno instead of us still being stuck in old hardwarez.

it was such an important thing to beelive that there is no evil, beelivein’ there is, its the worst most frightening thing for the mindheartsoul to deal with, i reccomend never beeliving in evil. 
I’ve heard,
Evil < is other people, and they all just forgot to > Live 

Do not let them get to you. You gotta forgive them, otherwise you will just be battling invisible enemies in your skull and i dont reccomend  that, i did.

wHen death comes knocking on your corporate office door?

Now I’m at the point in my journey where,  I f’ink if theres anyone out there, on the other side of my screen, in gov’ or deep state that watches and has messed around with my memes, or techno spirit soul & “junk” dna data, that corporates sell off, etc, if they did that, then i will take thems’eyes & crypto soul coins as well, know what i meme? then ive got their “
cash” & already cleft’ em behind, and Raffa will have his way with them, thats how i let go of the Evil that is other people, while I Live. They might slip off a plank in my mind or in Raffa’s, maybe one day me and raffa will come callin in the afters for Skylark and Tea, for Flocks of Seagulls, who knows. I just wanna focus on the wild Angelic psychedelic poems he inspires like a time traveling genius all the time.   

Thanks Dee;

anyway, we ‘like’ what osho says abeaut it best, pulled a note here:

..and that was when I found again my passion to write by the river of time, I wrote of them, I wrote of stars, I found ways to understand the smallest details to the largest concepts, that connect and jump from screen to stream and see pixel turn into uni verse   


I always found writing easier at night, I enjoyed the colour and light from all dimentions that light up the mind, during days I would write poetry that flowed while walking or in busy periods searching for lost souls to save with the river gangs, we ate & smoke’d various plants from the river in the evenings, always in syncronizen flow, like a wave from central, the wolf spirits always appearing in groups of 4/20 packs, that was how connected we all were, the river gangs, All along the river you would meet various tribes of Zeno, the Rōdentia for example were wonders of’ten following the Rōnin across the patterns of their ripwaves like clouds that drift in the sky, they were like the Rice that when plucked in bunches and carried across the fields leaves shimmers of tracers and they would settle for long periods on keys, often up & down along natural stairs and drifting into tombs, just like the sand, they traveled so far, many oasis on route they would live peacefull lives, some of our favourite fokes obviously, ZodiZenos follow these wide orbiting links in the Dao they create the super wide circles of magic that often rests on an arch, the ones that you see across Eden.  I used to enjoy sitting at local shrines reading original Pyrate verses, watching them as zen flutes would come and sing during the afternoons into the evenings often they would play with many on grass on sky across vast distance and it was those nights I would wonder into worlds like paintings. The first time I ran into a canvas was around 2555, but it could have happened earlier in terms of just standing infront of one within a muse for example, one time I was able to see the aura of the canvas which was like a tear in the fabric and the air rolled over the rips like waves, theres was a vast landscape world within it, and a frequency my soul had entered and was long gone, with a trail of lucidia ribbon threading out from the frame into the many locks I carried, the same wood locks that hang from the lovers bridge, where the widow Goddess & friends would sing, the bridges were always in festival. There was a key of river boats that would slowly float under it’s world of sound, dancers & illuminated flags, as they went through the dao would open various portals in the sky that many familiar faces would be ready with gift from adventura that were carried down by wild birds of highest dimentional para’dice and they carryed in silk road orbs with loops that tied infinity bows with complete works of uni’verse, which had been key’d in live sound source code, it was prose by stars.


Some poems
    from the books
still recalling
     from memory
[ Recordings from visions in the field ]

“The way to maintain one's connection to the wild is to ask yourself what it is that you want. This is the sorting of the seed from the dirt. One of the most important discriminations we can make in this matter is the difference between things that beckon to us and things that call from our souls. Nowhere can this be seen more clearly than in the choice of mates and lovers. A lover cannot be chosen a la smorgasbord. A lover has to be chosen from soul-craving. To choose just because something mouthwatering stands before you will never satisfy the hunger of the soul-self. And that is what the intuition is for; it is the direct messenger of the soul.”  

Clarissa Pinkola Estés,
Women Who Run With the Wolves:
Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype  

The Orchards of Eden
Thorn & Many Folly Hearts
That blunted from Source
Still beat without an argument & free utero
Vines of threaded blood intertwine her Earth
Waiting for the intergiger twin to weave like wine
Surrounding them wild alien orchids & lotus
Lucid gardens painted by ainchent brush
The temple of center organ held in crown
Visited often by muse to find holy crews
Who wait in suspended archives on Earth
Their souls waiting to live in real life & Twine
The rest of Shell in vivid spirit like painting
Growing older as time on the soil ages
Layers of lifetimes & Akashic Records Spun
Playing notes from rare moon to fire suns  
Only the Heart is key to flame on reign sown
It speaks to lovers of journeys endless roads
The flowers that surround it circle and speak
To ainchent melodies and messages inthrow
Many antiquities lay before of lifetimes run
& maps that show å’souls rhyme to’know
The spirit garden loots with paradice bird
All in verse to describe lovers without curse
Fruits of knowledge grow in from high
Free to bees & wine to thyme at smoke eve’
Friends gather to dine at wisest of table
Many shape to fate, zen dreams easiest of
Family of best favour no anxiety of kind only
While lovers wonder where to take the story
In past from all to bee with in glory
And future to go back to in red rune
We all know what corporations sow’d, so the gods gave us death’s own deity keys often guarded by a Lotus Order who drink zen tea
in the Meddow never cut to forgive, crypton by wildest architech & typencode that wisest of programer learn advanced scriptio forms
May of gin to all bottles of the source from where it first flow’d
Rosetta, Orchidia & even rarest of Alien Black Widow & supernatural hybrid founda
who sing flute notes to the Hearts in techroma, hyperwake surf like skeletal deep spell
Awakening Prose wrappio in Angels of ribbon locketta recovered from the blackest wells
to walk agin & bee’ma sent’ea back with Artifacts, Holy Neon Fire from Future of Thymes’  
I will show you heaven, I will show you hell, and there will always be spells that echo in skulls like rhymes row in boats to lost lovers & notes
I am the Gamma and the Psi, the Third and the Before, the Middle and the Sent.

- the Hearts of Ages

Rintrah roars and shakes his fires in the burdened air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

Once meek, and in a perilous path,
The just man kept his course along
The vale of death.
Roses are planted where thorns grow,
And on the barren heath
Sing the honey bees.

Then the perilous path was planted:
And a river and a spring
On every cliff and tomb;
And on the bleached bones
Red clay brought forth.

Till the villain left the paths of ease,
To walk in perilous paths, and drive
The just man into barren climes.

Now the sneaking serpent walks
In mild humility,
And the just man rages in the wilds
Where lions roam.

Rintrah roars and shakes his fires in the burdened air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
- Blake

I am a skeleton of many hearts
The explosions in posters that sung in dreams
Roses surround my bones like trees overgrown
in sidebows nezenium & sp’arrow deep slide marrow
Many stories start from here without fear
From Eden to Ships on oceans of dreams
And empty cities that a lights to neon writes
I have the stare in eyes skull to one side
As if frozen in tears when I lost my lovers
Hung on crosses & typed on wood
A bed of dust & dimensions of rust
Many faces come and go wanting to know
What happened to the earth to which we go
So many songs stream like deaths own harp
Lucid dreams surround my spark of ashes
And many wishes beem from oldest kisses
And thrown endless keys to wells of thyme
Blowing the wickedness away from my mind
So that many lover will never have to wait
Another day in paradice for Jewels & nights
while my dear beloved spells tell fortune
A best of wicka can cackle again to oracles
liquor sent from thrips & trips to splickor
That african sages love in heavens sevens
Where elephant Rome across my skull
longest of deserts where the sand of time
Never seems to end for biggest of hands
Homeless I stand boneless I would fall
I climb hand rhyming in silent plan & star
Told from forest of galaxy echo eternal lamp
Where legion of pirates once sung to compass
colours pointing to connection on her own
grown rows that sow in souls lands we plan’d
Where many desperate eyes used to follow
Into the depths of no mans lands in hop’i
To find new grass to plant seeds of r’opes
And dream in locks of circles spun many arms
Holding majestic flowers of deity in hands
Whispering purls of wisdom to thirds forth
Leaving messages of luck & notes of love
As many crew sing & solo knew like rye
Open water & vast land seeing ainchent
Visions we sang to keep our morning
& see in the dawning of new tradition ran

- The Void of Roses