What if the World is flat after all

What would that mean

Would it alter my steps

Would it change the axis around which I spin

They say it is a spinning sphere

Hung like a blue marble in black space

But They say lots of things and it changes like the wind blowing this way and that

They used to say it was flat

Pluto used to be a planet too

Then it was not, now who knows

Can someone remind me if eggs are still bad for you

Is it Global Warming or Global Cooling or just Change now

It is hard to keep up between seasons of American Idol and Netflix marathons

It is hard work whoring myself for the next newest shiny thing They say I must have to be complete

I need to turn on the programming written for my particular demographic to get my bearings

Let’s see . . . what trifle shall I mediate on today

Whose direction will fill my thoughts and be parroted with borrowed words

Am I against Christians or Gay people, Black or White Devils or the manipulated Mexicans brought in to fill a growing gap

Do I care more about puppies than baby parts

Will I kill you over an idea that you are an idea, a label not a soul

Existential unnamed rage projected onto the stereotypes injected into my mind

Or will today be a time to remember that I forgot to feel terrorized

By the ones They have created, pissed on and off, and financed

Cause if I am angry about flags and fags or pants that sag I won’t consider

It will never enter my mind that perhaps I am asleep dreaming I am awake in this hall of mirrors

A prison of half-truth and misdirection, held captive by the cage created in my mind

Fighting for the crumbs from Master’s table that I have built and even now sustain

Righteous anger aimed amiss is an impotent thing and is no threat to Them

It only tightens the noose and the more I struggle the less I can breathe

That is why it was said to turn the other cheek.  It dissipates Their power

They feed off the struggle of the pawns and the knights, the bishops and the royal court who think they are players

But no, they are being played, both king and pawn.

The game is played above their heads with pillars and ladders to heaven

Whether one travels a space at a time or the length of the board it is still on the square, boundaries defined by the Makers of the game

Rules and moves defined, determined by demographic, groups magically manipulated by the illusion of averages and statistics

Groups cannot think, only individual souls might consider that there may be better questions that would reveal the real play

A soul might pause and wonder why is it that they ask Them for permission to marry in the first place or why it is we seek a right that we already posses

A soul may ask how it is that we have surrendered our authority to smiling sorcerers and devils that claim to own this world and us through Divine Right

Birthright traded for a bowl of beans, distraction of their fertility rituals, and conjured safety

For They promise security and solutions from threats and problems They created

They break my legs and I gratefully accept the crutches They provide from my labor

And I will continue to eat the poisoned food and water They make available then come flaccid and fat and weak, hat in hand begging my Masters for Healthcare

I will not give a moment’s thought to Their mass genocide, drug trade, trafficking in children for sex, starvation of tens of thousands because it is convenient, expedient for Them

No, but I will fight for my right to remain a slave to the business of the MON EYE god they serve, stay discontent in my little cube as they offer me up as a sacrifice to the Lord of the Rings

It is all business, nothing personal, I am a number, a member of a group and have grown accustomed to my bondage

My chains may be of iron or gold yet chains they remain

And I will be on guard to protect my status

It is what I have traded for my empty, grasping, and envious soul

I have become my own prison guard policing myself and others ever watchful for the code words that signal a breach in the walls of my demographic

Cracker, Nigger, Faggot, they change through the years and the current context of culture

They are a function not a person, but if I am a statistic what do I know of spells and incantations spoken over me from my birth

Flags and Fags and pants that Sag are the current code words which illicit the predictable preprogrammed patterned response

I will watch as they change business models based on trends and temperament of the slaves

Socialism, Capitalism, Fascism, Communism, are all isms and ocracys and any will serve them at need

It is all the same game to them and they need good ignorant slaves whatever They call them or the system dejure

Even if one wants to be a “good” Master, they still want to be Master

But, what if the world is flat after all

What would that mean

Would it alter my steps

I think not.  They come one yard at the time either way

I encounter one soul at the time too.  I have never met an average or a median or mean

Men and women and boys and girls given rights by their Creator

Given seeds and water and earth and resources for life in love and grace, not walking death and slavery

Real change happens in the heart and the mind as we awaken and shake off the webs they weave

They can only do what we allow, it is all a head game played by our leave

No is the most powerful word

There is no need to fight anything but the fear and the addiction to what does not satisfy anyway

 

P.S. It is interesting that the UN uses a Flat Earth map.  What’s up with that?

P.S.S.  They said it was flat, then a ball, but now use a flat map, I wonder what people will do when They tell them that the Aliens are here to save us and it is important to submit to trans-human implants?

P.S.S.S.  It all sounds crazy when it is first said.  It always has because it’s different.  It sounded crazy when they told you not to shit your pants anymore too.  Your world was shaken but you learned to handle your shit differently.

P.S.S.S.S.  The funny and sad part is that some folks will take more issue with the map and alien stuff than the slavery they are living.

P.S.S.S.S.S.  Just remember that if there is fear and a promise of safety They generated the fear and built the pens for everybody to run into.  That is the real game.

P.S.S.S.S.S.S.  Perfect love casts out fear – Love, Your Creator

🙂 Be Groovy!