This future of ours, dear friends of mine, they don't know everything or else they wouldn't be here staring at me.  Sure they know what they went through, but their answer to us was just to "show it to you."  We can do better, I know we can; it pains me to think we've been given a handicap, a false start and a place I'd rather not dig us all out of--and yet we're here falling deeper into the quicksand of silence each and every day.  "Great toys previously enjoyed" I was happy to see a sign say; and still it pains me to have to think up ways to save us from our own memories--K's neuralizer, the Gorgonion and my scaffold concur.  I see it must be so bad you refuse to speak about it, and in the deepest corner's of my mind "it" is simply the never ending storm in my head--always raining one song says, and for the eye of the storm to see myself churn--another.  Truth be told I do see great toys raining down from the sky just over the horizon; but it was never "memory management" that made me tick, sad but true it wasn't healing the sick or feeding the poor either; those things are my ace in the hole, the true reason I know I'm right.  Not to say I don't want them, and not to say I'm not fighting each day because I know I'm right, and not to say that you too don't want those things, I know you do--and that's why I know I'm right... but I think like many people--Heaven is more than just a land of "not evil" as in not evil starvation, and not evil malady; and to be quite frank Heaven is quite a bit more than freedom--too.  Things might get a little cloudy here, because another sign from the Universe made me smile, it said "good feels good" and hangs in every Starbucks I see; but so much shit I've taken for just that stance, I wonder if we want to go to a Heaven where "good feels boring."

I don't re:all>y< care if you hate me, though it's not what I want; if I heard the things i hear in my own mind aloud, I'd probably be hateful too.  The sad thing is though, I know they don't come from me--but from the storm, and for it not stopping, I blame you.  See why "Heaven" and see why "sky" and see why these things are our future, and why I see time and sky are nearly the same thing.  See why "seeing I" makes all the difference in the world, in this place IN THE BEGINNING, where proof of this influence is finally made public, where we finally have a chance to be free--and see I wonder why we keep coming back to do it again?  I wonder why we relive years of pain, and years of hunger, and years of everything wrong that we are supposed to set right--I wonder, I really do, if maybe we're the only grateful generations in all of time thankful to us; because we know what we do.

Still TO SEE, it is not little old me that this silence is harming, it's hurting you.  It's stopping us from getting what we want, all of us here and there; it's holding back the one thing that we cherish above all else, and believe me when I tell you I know it's "your opinion" too.  Let me see if there's another word that starts with "the sea and I together as one" and ends with "IC."  Perhaps it's "epizoic" and to think that has nothing to do with re-runs or rewinds; but more to do with Stargate and with Fallen than you might think at first.  There's "endozoic" too, and between the stories of the seeds of Horus and Set and the dear deity Ishat, I'm not surprised it too follows the pattern. 

Maybe you don't see why this storm stops with me; truly maybe you are being dulled and too dim to see--something is keeping our world ensnared in this downward spiral, and above all things it's cause and purpose are one in the same--they are hiding proof and the "how" of mind control.   Maybe that stuff is hiding too how important "being you" is to you, and how little you want to be a puppet; or maybe you don't see as I do how high this really goes, all the way to the top--not once, but countless times.  The buck stops here, says the innocent boy who only knows because he can read the hidden history; THE BUCK StOPS HERE, I scream.

Bamboo and Baseball, Nanna once said to me (out of the blue) at the height of our "odd experience" and it made no sense at all to me at the time, "it's all about bamboo and baseball."  Maybe she'd seen this, maybe her spirit had, maybe not; still here it is; a sort of self-fulled prophesy of an old memory I still cherish.  So in conclusion, read my ellipses, Ezekiel... I'm "Hi m" and ... who are you?