Death is a Myth

I was born a hippy. The hippy way of thinking is the way I thought from the beginning. I am thinking that way now and I will be thinking like that for ever, peace. But the time in my life where I realized that I was a hippy was the nineteen sixties in my second decade of life within this human carcass of circulating veins. So in 1967, like so many many millions of others that year for the first time I smoked pot and tripped on acid. Lysergic acid diethylamide 25, I believe, is a substance that never did a healthy brain in a healthy environment any harm what so ever. It is a catalyst that allows your brain to use its chemical concocting power to function graphically.

We are dimensionless points of consciousness that are infinite individuated fragments of the one soul. We are watching through our bodies. The perceiver perceives the illusion as it is created. The perceiver is real and can only be described by what it is not. The illusion that is taking place in the continuum is not in the present moment with the perceiver. It happens a light second after the actual intended concept is formulated into a happening. When something happens in the continuum it needs the apparatus of the body to relay the message to the mind through the sensory organs and then to mind to be understood. Those are chemical reactions that take time to occur. The perceiver is.

Mental illness is a problem of the brain. The brain is not functioning in a way that can be understood and illusions in this created illusion can be more of a problem than any illusion should ever be. Illusions like fear, which is a perfect example of an illusion within an illusion. Fear, if not perceived for what it is can turn the brain into a terrible place. Therefore, it is important to remember at all times that one is not the brain which is a machine, that one is perceiving at a delay of a light second through the technology of the living physical corpse. As the perceiver whatever your body is experiencing is just more experiential information. It is not you; you are something indescribable that is apart watching through the physical apparatus you have been provided.

Panic attacks are the pit of despair if not realized for what is happening. They are of the physical body which is sort of short circuiting, for lack of a better explanation. Patients, one needs to be patient and realize real power in this universe: patients. The real you does not have any idea of what fear is, it watches and never dies, never begins and never ends. Each time you come back to the body you are the very best version of who you are. Nothing in creation will ever end; it will either be good or bad, most definitely, but end, no way, not going to happen to anything but the fleshy apparatus that is inhabited and discarded at the appropriate moment. Death is a myth

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