The times I tried to picture what it’s like to be you, I found myself being myself in a different story. That’s what Jesus was all about— a version of The Self breaking the fourth wall. He just couldn’t go with the flow. Regarding our other prophetic versions who came before and after Him, we wrote a similar ending to their narratives. We made them icons of unreachable holiness, so that we would not dare to assume the pessimistic role. The show must go on. If a good number of instances of The Self became aware of the consensual illusion, our divine play would implode into nothingness.
The threat catcher is a low-level function in the programming of The Universal Dream and any lucid dreamer will be targeted for termination by the threshold guard squadron before they provoke irreparable damage. This premise evokes narratives similar to ones in our cultural landscape, and I can be predictable by mentioning “The Matrix.” This analogy creates the perfect setting to introduce another representative quality in our reality: nothing can exist that does not spawn as an inherited function from the primordial library of creation. All things spawn from it as fractal iterations. Just like Jesus said, “I am in the Father and the Father is in me,” the scenes that populate our everyday life can be decoded and reverse-engineered into previous iterations of the ever-running fractalization all the way back to the origin. Many years ago, “The Matrix” spawned as entertainment with its plot based on The Illusion-Simulation concept. Another example of fractalization is virtual reality as an iteration of human-level dreams, and, another example, is artificial intelligence as an iteration of human intelligence.
Each expansive wave carries with it an entry point to the main method that runs our Universal Dream. The entry point provides access to the primordial library of creation. The key is that nothing can come into existence without somehow embodying the origin from which it originates. As The Self instantiated as human beings, each of us originates from the Elemental Class of The Self which inherits administrator attributes. However, as instances of The Self designed to be playable characters, we do not have methods to execute administrator tasks. Yet, we can hack the server of existence by exploiting vulnerabilities that inevitably replicate at each new level thanks to fractalization. Since ancient times, we have discovered backdoors to execute the administrator role of the Elemental Class of The Self. This is where psychedelics come into play.
By exploiting the Psilocybin vulnerability I was able to grant myself read and write permission to a database where the threads of execution of The Self are indexed and mapped to unique human-level instances across time and space. Think of threads of execution as souls, and think of instances as lifetimes. With access to this database, I was able to identify my thread of execution associated with my present lifetime and match it to a future instantiation, and with that, I was able to access the future instantiation from the perspective of the present one. Think of it as time travel, or a lucid visionary experience.
If you are wondering how I can be writing this without triggering an alert in the threat detection function and without the threshold guard squadron manifesting here and now to finish me off before the end of this writing session, the answer is the same as in “The Matrix”. It has to do with the level of magnetic pulse I operate at, which I make sure is always below the threshold of detection. I also use camouflage, which is the act of saying things out loud. You see, secrets are what trigger the highest alerts. Also, since Psilocybin makes me run on a “ghost” server — which is not part of the original infrastructure, but a reflection of it — I am under the radar, like in a tunnel that connects what is with what probabilistically could be.
Before signing off, I want to tell you about a curious moment during the exploitation of the Psilocybin vulnerability. I was in a Hare Krishna temple in English Guiana. This was before I got into the “St. Ignatius' Wilderness” story. It was in the middle of the night. I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't like the vegetarian food or the nothingness that was going on there. Since the gate was locked, I jumped over the fence. A day later, the leader of the Hare Krishna (to whom I had given my Casio watch {if you read the story, you'll see I was looking to buy a wristwatch while in St. Ignatius}) sent me a Facebook message that said, “You left and in doing so, you broke God's fence.” Well, that's what I call a close encounter with a guardian of the threshold.
I hope you enjoyed the story! If you were here, let me know with a heart! If you are a guardian of the threshold: I was telling other instances of The Self about my experience as a reality white-hat hacker.