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Personal Universe

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Nothing manifests into Material Sludge absent of any internal-vision, unless ascribed to mysteries of the universe, the supernatural, and/or, the ways of beloved Mother Nurture and her sister Ms. Muse.

A neoclassical painting of a winged muse in a yellow robe writing on a tablet, robed figures and cherubs in the landscape behindRegularly scheduled programming courteous of the industrial mind-control complex, does not include skillsets or any notion of visualization to manifest something into this material world—assembling atoms and molecules creations visceral and real.

A cautionary tale: Personal Universe protocol is a double edged sword.

A straight-bladed Japanese sword laid above its plain black lacquer scabbard, the hilt wrapped in dark cord over pale ray skin.Once upon a time, there was a savage drooling caveman from Occxie-land, known only as Dreggory Glutton—who once recounted from his filthy fetid lips—“I have read enough books”—the epitome of abject stupidity—this detestable lapdog of wickedness also happened to make the Personal Universe discovery.

Detection of the Personal Universe by such malfeasant minions of evil, also allows access to this powerful phenomena to use for nefarious purposes, unseemly ends and ill gotten gains.A grotesque caricature of a bloated pink face with a pig's snout and pointed ears, the lower half crusted with food and grease.Realizing the existence of the Personal Universe is of paramount importance, and the critical first step to ignite Personal Agency.

Mastering the Personal Universe leads to a self-determined objective accompanying the notion of destiny—manifesting the Personal Universe is not rocket science—simply stated—it is the conviction to be and let be.

A distinct advantage in the world of programmed proletariat—a reflection of the SNS generation, have a look and see—there are more opportunities of a lifetime—precisely like the ice-cream truck that comes around every week.
A vintage turquoise-and-white ice cream truck parked on tarmac, the vendor in a peaked cap serving at the hatch while a boy waits holding a menu card.

The innate DNA trait of the Personal Universe lies at the core of your inner-being—this is where you will find the illumination of Ms. Muse, who from the Beginning of Infinity has been chiding, guiding, urging you to live in the essence of ΩNE’s core being—there is where a level playing field embraces all—the true meaning of being free.

The door to this Infinity Field is hermetically sealed, the way in is through your frontal-lobe door—having now been identified as the unique idiosyncratic port of entry—never from those originating externally.

With crystal clear clarity, ΩNE must acknowledge the darkness residing innately inside thee—without realization of this universal reality, lessons thought to have been taught will reflect feckless foggy faded dreams.

A hazy digital painting in dusty pink and brown of a ruined industrial gorge: gantries, a broken bridge and towers of rock, with birds circling; a small signature sits in the lower right.During indoctrination at the Occxie Industrial Education Complex, one of the most wonderful gift of sentience was the unfettered ability to tune out noise and engage with splendid lucid dreams.

Some would say dreamers lack focus or attention, some even go so far as to say—this Extraordinary Class of visionaries are merely suffering from ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder).

A painted illustration of a boy leaning out of a sash window to pat a small dog sitting on a table with a tin can and a fishing float, ivy framing the brickwork; the artist's signature is at the lower right.

Nothing could be further from absolute truth—now lying before thee, endless are the possibilities when exploring your Personal Universe—it is here where you come to see the Origins of Infinity, leading to the discovery of life’s meaning.

It is in the minds eye—where ΩNE will find—your very own personal Ms. Muse—whispering notions of what is possible out there—singing through the thick wax of the hairy aural cavity of your ears—fill your chalice with sweet nectar of infinite life, the time is now for Personal Agency.

A silhouetted figure stands against a sunset with arms spread wide, a broken chain hanging from each hand; a site emblem and the word “FREEDOM” are lettered at the left.