Welcome to The Pub At the End of the Universe.

[Nora]

On the rocks ...

Hey Calzee,

While your are serving it up in the Pub, single malt.... straight.

Love

Nora

[another bob]

Posted by Calz_Avaretard (here)
A: "Let me get this straight. Because you are worried about the small number of nasty people who are willing to kill and enslave and steal, you think it is necessary for your survival to have a system where some humans among you for a short while get to call themselves the Government and they get to order everyone else around like slaves, and if they want commit mass murder overseas, using money they stole using threats of violence. Politicians get to enslave and kill and steal because if they didn't ... someone else might? And you try to elect good honest people to be politicians but what happens every time is that the people you elect turn out to be corrupt evil lying crooks. That's your system?

H: "Yup. That's pretty much Government."


http://www.sott.net/articles/show/24...ce-not-Mexico-

[Calz]

Posted by Nora (here)
On the rocks ...

Hey Calzee,

While your are serving it up in the Pub, single malt.... straight.

Love

Nora

Well hi there Nora

Chocolate, vanilla or would you like to try our special for the day Strawberry???

[Alekahn]

A musical interlude feels in order...
a song of heart's desire. The day
brimming with potential, as always.

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfN58h4zZ7o

[another bob]

Posted by Alekahn (here)
A musical interlude feels in order...
a song of heart's desire. The day
brimming with potential, as always.

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfN58h4zZ7o

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNfSKMlNquE

[songsfortheotherkind]

[Alekahn]

"I entered the amethyst grotto:
I left my blood among purple thorns:
I changed skin, wine, outlook:
ever since, violets hurt me."

Pablo Neruda

[another bob]

Posted by songsfortheotherkind (here)

[another bob]

Posted by Alekahn (here)
"I entered the amethyst grotto:
I left my blood among purple thorns:
I changed skin, wine, outlook:
ever since, violets hurt me."

Pablo Neruda

Attachment 15327

And it was at that age. . . poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, not silence,
but from a street it called me,
from the branches of the night,
abruptly from the others,
among raging fires
or returning alone,
there it was, without a face,
and it touched me.
I didn't know what to say, my mouth
had no way with names,
my eyes were blind.
Something knocked in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first, faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing;
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
the darkness perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the overpowering night, the universe.

And I, tiny being
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss.
I wheeled with the stars.
My heart broke loose with the wind.


~Pablo Neruda

[Zebra]

Mr Jacovesk,
we are prepared to serve you only the best, in return for quality equivalent in some interesting posts from the being that lies behind the keyboard, behind the being, whom thou callest Jacovesk! Bring it on!

Posted by jackovesk (here)
If this pub doesn't serve 'Scotch & Coke' that's the last you'll hear from me...

[Zebra]

[/QUOTE]

Big smile. -thanaks Another Bob- an image I downloaded into my heart

[Zebra]

Posted by Alekahn (here)
A musical interlude feels in order...
a song of heart's desire. The day
brimming with potential, as always.

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfN58h4zZ7o

Beautiful Alekahn. x

[songsfortheotherkind]

29 hours without sleep. INteresting...

Fallen angels- do you know why they're called the Fallen? It's a bunch of manipulated crap, really, because they fall upwards through Choice and there's no sin involved at all, because there's no sin. Light Beings aren't more enlightened, they just live in the frequency of Light, in the information streams that Light actually is: the messages are in the Light, the storage vessel is the Water. Angels aren't the messengers, the Light is, they are Beings that emerge from that frequency, the pure note distilled into expression of Self in new and mysterious ways. There are those who live on the extreme end of the frequency, Beings of absolute light frequency, immersed in traveling with the signal, the coiling dance of a different kundalini that writhes its way through the multiverse, infinite flavours and streaming information.

Others choose a different path, seeing the possibility in the distilled physical realms, choosing to fall upwards and inwards towards coalescence of their unique signal into physical expression, bringing with them fragments of the great information streams contained in the Light frequency.



They are bringers of their own Self, their own Song, and know nothing of gods or demons, evil or good, for in the Light stream there is simply Is and All, no judgement because there is no judge. They bring no revelation except their own Self, no divine message except their Being, no guidance except their own perspective.

We are each distilling our own Self into physical expression; every history, every story, every expression is an intertwining Song created to distill the co-creation and creator, evolution and that which is evolving, within the framework of an ever present and constant Now, where we get to make Self again and again, distilling into ever more complex expression the sui generis signal that each Being carries, their own element and frequency of the evolution and creation. It is all art made in water, momentary suspension before the next moment shifts the kaleidoscope and a whole new pattern is revealed.



I keep reminding my Self to stop thinking so small; it's all so much more interesting and complex than the simplistic cause and effect version of things that the virus Mirror reflects back to those who live in fear of what they truly are and might become. Every manifestation, every distillation, every moment of connection and co-creation is in service to the evolution, always the frequency calling to its own Self, inviting the simultaneous inhalation and exhalation of mouths hovering softly above one another, the exchange of breath of life between the All and its infinite expression. This Art that is made on the canvas of the ever present spirit, colours and textures swirling with the touch of each new Being, micro to macro, Art made in the moment of expansion and connection, the flash of yes and willingness to be sui generis cohesion.



I'm not interested in what I was yesterday, or a billion years ago, except for how it informs my evolution now: now is what there is for me, with the yesterdays and eons all present here in this moment to reveal to me another facet of the Self that I am creating now. That is what is happening here, in this particular present: Choice, the expression of the Art that I am prepared to create, embracing and naked in willingness to express and co-create, blind and deaf to the chorus of billions who insist that I have no power, that this limited disease is the best there is. I release my Self into the storm and let go, let their voices and patterns wash around me as I anchor into the core of I Am and concentrate on the expansion within me, willing only to let my eyes rest on the vision I have within me of what is possible, the infinitely possible.

I am a thousand Beings, infinite Beings, in this one skin. I slide away from the rules, the constrictions and the paradigms that seek to define me into a neat box. I turn away from the restrictions that are nothing but a reflection of the limitations of others. I embrace the unlimited creation and possibility.






Given this perspective- that all history is simply another breadcrumb trail of evolution- I can talk about the history of the Otherkind as I have it.

[Zebra]

Time to book a room, it has been a long day. Sweet dreams all x

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqlKpc4wCDU

[davyj0nes]

have you tried whisper videos to help you sleep??? I like'em they make me tingly and sleepy... zzzz...

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=329NxhP-RGY

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkXI5bGlCjU

[songsfortheotherkind]

Posted by davyj0nes (here)
have you tried whisper videos to help you sleep??? I like'em they make me tingly and sleepy... zzzz...

I"m processing huge amounts of information at the moment, as well as going through some major upheavals energetically- of the good sort, still running on full throttle internally trying to keep up. Have also had a switch in eating patterns, my thought processes are altering greatly, I'm wanting to move faster through the spaces and I'm confused because my external world and internal worlds are majorly out of alignment; my constant calling, as part of my evolution, is in exploring congruence and cohesion, holding my sui generis in my Self as my compass- I find it very confusing to orient this solidly given the other demands on my life, many of which I have no energy for any longer. I was pacing up and down my drive way yesterday and at dawn this morning, looking to clarify the signal so I could have a better idea of what I need to be doing for my Self right now: I have no answers within me and need wait for the coalescence and clarity to emerge from the effects of the path I'm on.

[another bob]

Posted by songsfortheotherkind (here)
Fallen angels- do you know why they're called the Fallen? It's a bunch of manipulated crap, really, because they fall upwards through Choice and there's no sin involved at all, because there's no sin. Light Beings aren't more enlightened, they just live in the frequency of Light, in the information streams that Light actually is: the messages are in the Light, the storage vessel is the Water. Angels aren't the messengers, the Light is, they are Beings that emerge from that frequency, the pure note distilled into expression of Self in new and mysterious ways. There are those who live on the extreme end of the frequency, Beings of absolute light frequency, immersed in traveling with the signal, the coiling dance of a different kundalini that writhes its way through the multiverse, infinite flavours and streaming information.

Others choose a different path, seeing the possibility in the distilled physical realms, choosing to fall upwards and inwards towards coalescence of their unique signal into physical expression, bringing with them fragments of the great information streams contained in the Light frequency.

They are bringers of their own Self, their own Song, and know nothing of gods or demons, evil or good, for in the Light stream there is simply Is and All, no judgement because there is no judge. They bring no revelation except their own Self, no divine message except their Being, no guidance except their own perspective.

We are each distilling our own Self into physical expression; every history, every story, every expression is an intertwining Song created to distill the co-creation and creator, evolution and that which is evolving, within the framework of an ever present and constant Now, where we get to make Self again and again, distilling into ever more complex expression the sui generis signal that each Being carries, their own element and frequency of the evolution and creation. It is all art made in water, momentary suspension before the next moment shifts the kaleidoscope and a whole new pattern is revealed.

I keep reminding my Self to stop thinking so small; it's all so much more interesting and complex than the simplistic cause and effect version of things that the virus Mirror reflects back to those who live in fear of what they truly are and might become. Every manifestation, every distillation, every moment of connection and co-creation is in service to the evolution, always the frequency calling to its own Self, inviting the simultaneous inhalation and exhalation of mouths hovering softly above one another, the exchange of breath of life between the All and its infinite expression. This Art that is made on the canvas of the ever present spirit, colours and textures swirling with the touch of each new Being, micro to macro, Art made in the moment of expansion and connection, the flash of yes and willingness to be sui generis cohesion.

I'm not interested in what I was yesterday, or a billion years ago, except for how it informs my evolution now: now is what there is for me, with the yesterdays and eons all present here in this moment to reveal to me another facet of the Self that I am creating now. That is what is happening here, in this particular present: Choice, the expression of the Art that I am prepared to create, embracing and naked in willingness to express and co-create, blind and deaf to the chorus of billions who insist that I have no power, that this limited disease is the best there is. I release my Self into the storm and let go, let their voices and patterns wash around me as I anchor into the core of I Am and concentrate on the expansion within me, willing only to let my eyes rest on the vision I have within me of what is possible, the infinitely possible.

I am a thousand Beings, infinite Beings, in this one skin. I slide away from the rules, the constrictions and the paradigms that seek to define me into a neat box. I turn away from the restrictions that are nothing but a reflection of the limitations of others. I embrace the unlimited creation and possibility.

Given this perspective- that all history is simply another breadcrumb trail of evolution- I can talk about the history of the Otherkind as I have it.

Fabulous writing . . . really exceptional material . . . leaves me breathless!

Deep Bows of Appreciation!

[another bob]

Even within this small planetary realm there are infinite worlds of increasingly incomprehensible complexity. This planet itself sails around a small star in an immense galaxy of stars, and this galaxy floats in an infinite space embracing uncountable galaxies. All of these galaxies appear within the physical universe, which is but a drop in the totality of visible and invisible manifestation.

Even so, no one has ever gone anywhere, nothing has ever happened. No struggle has taken place, nor war ever fought. Not one soul has been liberated, no daunting demon cast down. No lovers have ever been joined, nor enemies divided. No light shines on in some mirror bright, no darkness shadows the land. Not even one drop of the rain of Bliss – what the poets refer to as Grace or This -- has fallen from the Sky of Heart, nor any arrow pierced it.

At any given or taken time, there is nothing to see, to feel, to acquire or know. Seeing, feeling, grasping, knowing are figments of time, but our time ran out before it began, while we persisted in dreaming. There are no lessons to learn, no paths to tread, no journey ending in happiness. This is how deeply I love you. Can you bear it? Can you let it go, let me go, so I can finally come home to you, myself, the one you see in the mirror of change, your own Beloved, yourself?

There is no hope, nor any reason for it. Nothing bound, nothing loosed, nothing lost, nothing found. This is so, and yet it cannot be accounted for, yielded to in ordinary or exotic sacrificial ritual, cajoled to disrobe by the charming bundle of passing pulchritude we pretend ourselves to be.
Nor can it be affirmed, denied, nor even pointed at -- it being nothing other than the pointing, pointing at itself in the exact direction of nowhere in particular, yet specific in each case, whatever that case may be, even as it changes into nothing special, really –

just a little something to enhance the romance, the dance of dreamers awake in the dream, asleep in the deep, the immensity of what bears us, bears our failing, our failing to love beyond the dream.

Meanwhile, under an influence of that filmy facsimile we imagine embodiment to be, clinging to a bare high branch on the African plain, we’re dream-gazing out towards a Neolithic sky, entranced by the shaman's skin drum echoing rhythmically in the far distance, the steady sound outside our bedroom window growing richer, clearer, as full moon tilts across our forehead, gradually revealing the secret in the drumbeat, the bom bom bom breaking our ancient mind into fragments of moonlight, of sheer grace, pulsing inside the heart’s drumbeat, inside this bedroom, perched atop a bare tree in a lunar desolation only shamans dare to enter.

And this is the way you found me, a child of a barren woman, a truly imaginary creature, floating outside your bedroom window, engulfed in a vaporous sort of breathing sound, not out of Africa, not anywhere we could name, a piece of vocal moonlight neither black nor white, the sudden end of drumming now a welcome window home, home without an answer, without a secret.

I come from sky, I go to sky, I go to you, because, even as this song world turns, there are galaxies beyond our ken evolving life forms whose singular destiny is coincident with one beam of clear white light, our light, spiraling on through fathomless time, reflecting neither presence nor absence, nor evidence that anything ever really happened, miraculous or mundane –

a smear of sudden brightness against a black background, painting itself with the stinging poetry of evanescence, our beginning and end in one flash, one seamless streak –

a wisp of a still-breathing something, gently exhaling . . .

no halo, no fear, only once

[REILLY]

Mwahaha Purple Lama is now drunk in the Pub. Here is the time of all times wher he might just let er rip.

Arms. The arms. In your picture, Songs. They should say on one, "God is Fun", and upon the other, "WE are God's Prime Time."

To those who have ears, let them hear.

I just love that one, about the ears. It's always tickled me, almost like it was my own idea.

Nope, too drunk. No reveal-ations tonight. Me and John, the Baptist, had a great time tonight. Ears. Anyway. We had Fun, and we had a good Talk.

So, Heads Up:

Don't Worry.

Ok, so maybe that was a leetle reveal-ation.

[REILLY]

Life is but the exhalation, death but the inhalation.

¤=[Post Update]=¤

Everything that is, is moving.

¤=[Post Update]=¤

we are so very, completely still.

¤=[Post Update]=¤

therefore, we, what we are, is not.

and it's ok!