Reflections on 911, 22 years later

Of course I remember where I was on that day and that hour. The moment someone called and told me to turn on the TV.

Of course I remember where I was on November 22, 1963 also. THAT was my wake-up call. And I’ve not been the same since.

From then on, what appears to be the case covers what is really the case, although what is really the case is likely and forever to remain, to me, essentially unknown, and/or confusing, distracting, designed to demoralize, cower in fear.

Another level of awakening came with the covid nonsense in early 2020. That time, fear, that is, F.E.A.R., didn’t kick in at all. It was as if I was, and am, living in a larger dimension, one in which the usual emotional drivers do not capture my full attention. Oh, I might get twinges of “fear” once in a while, and yet, at 80, after sixty years (60! two Saturn cycles) of being essentially AWAKE to the perfidious nature of whatever is trying to control us through terror, false flags, assasinations, etc. it’s as if “fear” is like a tendril, wafting through the air. I watch it; I watch myself, the 3D part of me that would succumb to “fear” if I weren’t AWAKE within a larger, more expanded dimension.

On my walk with puppy Shadow across the IU campus this morning, I noticed the students, most of whom were probably not even born yet when 911, once again, created mass PTSD that still hovers, pulls us in, and down — into innumerable rabbit holes. What do they think about that event? Do they think about it?

Bill Hicks was born in 1961, only two years prior to the Kennedy assasination, and yet he knew about it, on a visceral level, and couldn’t stop talking about it.

I wonder what Bill Hicks (who died of pancreatic cancer in 1996) would have said about 911. Would he have seen it as one more extra! extra! read all about it!  totalitarian hijack of our long-captured govern-ment?

Or would have he stuck by his 5D assessment, that life is but a dream.

Or both.

 

 

 

 

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