STP MKNG SNS.

clock

Ahem.

Sorry, to interrupt. But. Can you hear it?

Sure you can. Don’t fight it. Don’t deny it. Own it. It’s been poking and stoking you for a little while now. Can you feel the relentless tapping and rapping? The kneeing and the freeing of you?

Teasing and breezing right by you, like a butterfly tornado, faster and faster, trillions of flapping wings, an infinite number of times over, until it finally gets your attention. And it never gives up, because we both know that it already gets you. It knows, that you know, that I know, that you know, the deal.

Yes, now you are letting it, and getting it.

But I do, I hate to bother you, because you look so peaceful, and clueless, as you bumble along, but this is big. And important news. And you may have slept through your alarm again.

It happens.

You’ve been baking for way too long. Now it is time for waking and shaking. Are you up yet? We’ve been trying to reach you. You’ve missed our calls. You’ve been pretending to be sleeping. Blissfully. Am I right? But all that has changed now.

Where’s the single serve coffeemaker, again? Give it a stretch. Yes. There is something in the air, and it is getting heavy, real heavy. But he’s not your brother.

Headlines. Dreadlines.

Have we scared the FK and the life out of you yet? We are working really hard on that.

You may have guessed it already. And you are right. We live in very interesting and dangerous times, but don’t let that scare you. In great times of chaos, there are also great times of opportunity, according to ancient Chinese philosophy, and how can you argue with that?

We’ve built a Chinese wall and fire drill of hope.

And these are chaotic times. Look around you, and then look back, and then look again. Notice anything?

Probably not. And it is not your fault. This is because things are desperately and deservedly designed that way. We keep you so incredibly dissatisfied and distracted with lifestyles of the newly rich and fashionably famous that why would you bother taking note of your own life, when you can spend an earthly eternity obsessing about others and what you have not?

Take me to the river.

But things do change. That’s the one promise that the universe and everything in it, keeps. Everything else is negotiable, including death and taxes. Just ask Walt Disney, when he wakes up.

And they are changing right now, second by second, wave after wave, and atom by Adam. You need to get ready. Pretty soon, everything will be different. Stop making sense.

And you may ask yourself, how do I work this?

It is an addiction really, and we are feeding the hunger with our own can of man-made, adrenalized drug of anxiety with every rapid-fire tweeting that further confuses and confounds us, until it stones and owns us.

Yes. But this must be the place.

Let’s call it the frightgeist, this collective crippling that we create in our collective media mirrors, the never-ending eternal reflections that keeps us separated, afraid and ultimately enslaved to the power that will always protect us, until we realize that it is that same force that frightens us.

A wild life.

Once you get that, everything changes like a lightning bolt directly to your inner cerebral cortex, where you keep all of your power bundled up for a snowy day.

Well, the forecast is in, and the blizzard is moving towards you, right now. Pretty soon it will be nothing but flowers.

The road to nowhere is taking reservations, and it is filling up fast. You better call now. I think the number is on the fridge.

But it’s not for the frigid. This is a ride that only make sense for the strong of heart, the clear of mind, and wrestlers of will, because if you can’t play the game, the game will play you, until there are no more players left. Just like Vegas.

Or Vague Us.

I knew it. I’ve gone too far now. Sorry about that.

But there is an answer to all of this. Never give up, that truly is rule number Juan.

Just like Basquiat. Nobody really knew what that dude was up to, while he was up to it, except maybe Warhol, and people never really know what they are looking at, until someone else explains it to them, validates it, and thus cures the blindness for the rest of us.

You too, can get through this. Join us. We are the seers, the pre-cognition class, the various visionaries who pay the price for our collective blur, and lead us out of the forgotten fog, by forging a new path, through the weeds of wisdom, until the tunnel of truth finds the sunshine.

Oh yeah.

And without sunshine, our semi-eternal source of free energy, what have we got?

Ah. Yup, you are getting it. Eyes are open, the oxygen is on, the coffee has set in, and you may be ready to take the new day head on. Dead on. Good morning.

Let’s do this.

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