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the little things spreading out along the waves of time. The most important thing in all of this is to record the intent behind why it is that I record myself. You see, it’s difficult to sit down and type all kinds of thoughts continuously and seamlessly like it comes up in my mind. You see I can imagine countless universes and worlds, times and parallel universes, dimensions and that perhaps would not even be able to exist in real life. Maybe if one were to believe these parallel universes and whatnot, i could create stories and books. I mean, imagine creating something that somebody could get completely lost in, seamlessly, as if they were existing in their own book. That is what every single book is, and perhaps that is what is at the heart of madness in some situations.. If it’s not developed in an individual, if they’re not capable of sitting down and taking the time to sit down and relax and write and think and create, continuosly.. then maybe there would be more books, more inventions, more great ideas!! So then, record that that is my intent.. to sit down and write a book, by typing the words that i’m speaking, by transcribing my own babbling thoughts. Future me will sit down and stop and put the earbuds in my ears, and i will sit down and write the thoughts that i had in the past. I’m multitasking you see. I’m doing a project with future me. If there’s something you’ve got going on and you’re doing, and you’re thinking to yourself, “hey later on, i should do this that or the other thing.. ” all you have to do is travel through time!! blows the mind almost. all you have to do is just access the hidden dimensions that rest within the various different layers of multidimensionality that exist throughout your being. You see, because we are all energy, nothing more, vibrating along waves of time that exist as a multi-universal adapting organism. You see because I reverberate along closer to 26-30 dimensionalities above and beyond me. That is the key. To sit there.. not to sit there at all!!  but to allow yourself to evolve and mix in the chaotic froth of all the things that are combined and to be able to just step in and out of a doorway, a pathway, a simple door that you have to open before your mind. A door to the multi-dimensionality. To resurrect yourself along a different universe time.. universes that inhibit, universes that create. Universities that create men..

 

A state of being to a universe

get off of my sandwich creamy moo moo.!! That’s bread. That’s peanut butter. I wonder if i can hear him licking in the recording. It’s at 5:13. I’ll just have to remember that if i want to hear creamy moo moo recording.. if i want to hear creamy moo moo licking, i just have to go to 5 13 in the track D.

That’s the thing, is that as you go on throughout the day, the mind entertains itself with little little stories, little ideas, little thoughts, little dreams, in a way.. that is daydreaming!! it is beautiful, is it not, to sit down and daydream and create something truly… unique. something completely absorbed in a whole universe of it’s own. A possibility. A possibility. That is beautiful. It has the thing that it is beneath.

I could think all kinds of funny things, things that could make me laugh, things that could make me say, “omg, that is brilliant!” over and over.. but the key missing factor is that I do not write down everything that I think and everything that I say. So why not write down more of what you think and what you say.

So I say hello to you reader. Welcome to my story. Here you are. Some individual that I will probably never meet.

Hello.

Instead of there being a long pause, I let out a handshake. I reach my hand out to you, and I welcome you to my song. You see, because all that we are, is a reverberation along the universes intermixing being. I can step out of the shadows through a portal, a worm hole across time.. and I can extend my hand and say “hello, my name’s ben. I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time. I’ve traveled 31 years now, and i’ve just traveled through time to say hello to you. you may be in the year 2130, you may be in the year 2046, you may be in the year 2014, the year after i wrote it down and handed it to the publisher.  You may be some of the first to read anything that I have ever written, and you have no idea who I am. Hello. You may be somebody who has heard of me. And resurrect the good dreams and the bad dreams will never become.

I am going off on a tangent. I was just thinking about a past time that I had, discussing the possibilities of the universe with another individual on the internet. We were just sitting there chatting on a chat room on omegle, and i said to myself what this person said is brilliant!! because, it harnesses a thoughtwave,  that is fasinating..

 

little things that are daydreams. Daydreaming is beautiful, is it not?

mind of the scientist, that’s what i’ve always been trained to be.. a little child being trained to think creatively and imaginatively, with complex resolutions to a problem.. in order to create something that’s better.

why not make something better, you know, work smarter not harder, instead of just letting it be. that is the ultimate test. the truth to one’s being. whether or not an individual can and will and does or did.. it all is inconsequential.. because the only thing that matters is what is, and what continues, and what it shall be. That greatest thing, which can define an individual. There is actions, thoughts, will.. creation is more likely.whether or not one will choose to do what they thought they would, and they did..

that greatest thing, that can be found in the individual. there are thoughts.. actions.. desires, which constantly bombard our minds, and yet we often do nothing about many of those thoughts and actions and desires. We just let ourselves forget each of the little things that we at one point in time may have thought would be the greatest idea.

creation is more likely if one will let these thoughts and actions come to fruition.the relationships between 2 and three are mind boggling. There are all kinds of variables.

5:30-close tuesday

wednesday 5-close

thursday 5:30-9

friday 4-close

saturday 530 to close

sunday 530-9

monday off

tuesday 5-close

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2 Comments

  1. continuation**

    Be there a pathway which were greater than I could ever achieve,
    than let that be allowed to culminate without interference from my being…

    But whatever which pathway that could ever be capably conceived,
    that could ever stand a chance of emanating from the existence of my being,
    shall henceforth and forthwith be dedicated to the unification of all the possibilities.

    What am I? A curve along the line, the spinning revolution of a geodesic dome that infinitely scatters into the sky…
    A burst of color that comes from none, a symmetry at once created while at the same time undone by the opposites creating a third dimension out of two, and six out of three..permeating beyond normal calculating capabilities due to the exponential increase of the fields reverberating into being.

    I am a pool of crystalline glass soaking in the sunshine,
    a puddle of sublimely shifting waves imperceptibly altering the line..
    I am the infinite expanse which bursts forth from the center of my being,
    a blazing fire of pure intensity.

    The first character in my book is Hagbard, an ex heroin addict who’s now addicted to sex possibly, and is insanely attracted to squirting, and girls who squirt. He has had a girl squirt on him before, while he was fucking her even. He’s a little bit shy about being in the book, but there he is nonethless. If he’s going to be in the book, he might as well have a badass character!!

    Then who shall I be? just me another person? What shall the name of my character be?

    Joe Beazley. My child-hood best friend. He shall operate as my name out of honor to him. I’m not sure exactly what happened to him, but he died in the mountains in Alaska, just like my uncle Tom (well, tom died in a fiery plane crash, so he died totally different than joe, but I was just saying they both were in the mountains 🙂 (quite serendipitous)

    Yes, Joe Beazley could be one of my pseudonyms, my monikers, in the book.

    arial looked like anal. laughing at yourself.

    Joe glances up at the font type. *meditate on this for later, Joe says, “Yeah Ben, you can be me in a book if you want to. But I want it done well!” In honor of his memory I will belay my story writing of his character unto another time. Here in this moment itself, I stop and I sit upright. I take a moment to relax and still my mind. I wait for my wife to get done talking while I’m looking her straight in the eye. That’s right, I was typing that while she was talking to me (oops, that’s another level.). She turns to go and walk back out to the kitchen and continue cleaning up al of the halloween stuff by putting things away in the cupboards. let’s see if the experiment works in any way. “I wonder what experiment I was performing when I wrote that. You see, I’m always experimenting with anything that I ever do. Hardly any of my actions are unintentional, and I am trying to open up my mind as much as possible to all of the possibilities which exist. That involves constant experimenting.”

    When I was young I would always be cheered on for any advances I made in my ability to be scientific. So, I tend to enjoy scientific reasoning and logic puzzles, as well as any games that involve using logic. Risk is a favorite as well.

    Stop, banish any ill thoughts that you may have become sickened by. Do not manipulate the free will of others for any a single reason that serves greed of any kind.
    Thank you spirit
    Your welcome, it’s my will to bring you back in with the ways of the light.
    *edit* That was a little prayer that I said to god right there, when I was thinking about how to use my abilities to enter people’s minds to manipulate them to do what I want.
    I still have so much cleaning to do in this shoddy house of mine, but i’D LIKE TO SAY IN MY DEFENSE THAT i WAS TORTURED MANY A NIGHT (another level.. I have been severely tortured by demons in my dreams. I spent years battling evil demons in my dreams. More on that later)

    Twinkle twinkle little star, Way up high, way down low, I speak to every son you know.
    Hush little baby, don’t you cry, mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby.

    The secret code for the book, to be revealed to no one, is 210. Just ask yourself, when does 1+1=3? secret answer: one dimension unto two, two dimensions unto three, 3 dimensions unto 4. *poof* down the hole it goes. Goodbye forever.?.. not unto the other side. No longer on this side, it has become bound and undone. (<–On the other side of some other distant yet nearby universe, a different version of Ben suddenly shares the exact same thought of the Ben from this universe, who bundled up a ball of information and extended it laterally (or quadratically, or just the one of many other universes that exists right alongside him, as well as right inside and alongside you, reader. You see, we just simply hand it off to the right hand and then the left, from your brain into your hands. It's the simple thought flowing out of the mind that I am handing to you with my fingers tapping unto this line. If you do hear a call then please keep the line open for me to hear. You see, I'm riddling, so that not a single does overhear.

    "Hello reader, I see that you've found my line. I did write it on this ball for you to reveal over time. My message to you is secret, but it grows on every grapevine. It's the spirit of the mind, riddling to you through the inner eye. I'm revealing my inner workings to you to reveal to others who cannot hear my rhyme."

    A prayer to the father, "Thank you father, for being so kind. I'd ask to please allow my own interpretation to the line. I am also a son of yours, and I will help you if I can. Please forgive me for my failings, there have been so many over time. I have so much trouble being a human of our kind."

    "You're forgiven"
    "Thank you."
    "Every time."

    "There's so much humility still left to grow in me. I hope that one day, I can be a better man for all of mankind. I want to help every single other ben of my kind (and others as well, perhaps that's the greater song)."

    Sometimes one must listen to his father if he will expect to be a great man of any kind.
    Thank you father.
    Every time.

    You see, we live in a multiverse. I believe that all of the other universes which exist are right alongside and inside of us. Every single moment that we pass through space-time, we pass along through the dimensions that we don't even perceive without even realizing it. But we are still passing through those dimensions. Every one of us. Each and every one. When you wave your hand through the air, you see it as passing from the right to the left.. but as it passes from the right to the left, does it move up and down at all, does it move imperceptibly?.. what if when you pass your hand from the right to the left, you also pass it through any number of other dimensions as well..? What if I told you that you passes through at least up to 26-30 dimensions, rather than just right to left. Well, as far as I last researched, that is the current speculation when it comes to string theory (the ultimate theory of everything). There are at least 26-30 other dimensions wrapped up within the superstrings that make up us all. (for anyone who doesn't know about string theory, now is a good time to go and look it up. google it).

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Twinkle twinkle little star, ever so up high, I'll sing you this riddle, every night.
    You're dreams will awaken with this spirit of mine, enveloping you ever so slowly into my light.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    *Beware the Shoggoth Hagbard, they will envelop with lies*

    Robert can be the friend who helps Joe Beazley's entire operation. All that it would take is listening to the speech that Joe would give, and teaching him the more socially acceptable ways to say it (lay person's speak. I may have been taught how to market, but I haven't been taught what normal people think is stupid.)

    Welcome back to the story, reader (or should I say, Ben). "wow, that blows even my own mind" I'm talking to myself. Is that crazy. Don't we all talk to ourselves? Bring me a single person that says, "no, I don't talk to myself" because I sure would like to see them. There's not a single person that I've met that says, "no, I don't talk to myself."
    They usually say, "well there's a boundary, you know, a level to which a sane individual does talk to himself."
    And I would reply to anyone who said that to me, "Yes, that is true. I understand that there is a limit which should not be crossed. I tread that line as I write this to you. Walking on the edge of nothing, walking along the edge of sanity.. the edge of sanity. I walk that line every day. I wonder who I am and why I think, every single day. Should not we all? There is a thin line to the edge of madness. There is a point which should not be crossed because an individual could be sucked in.
    A thin line to the edge of madness? so madness is encircled by a thin line?..
    a thin line.. a thin line between sanity and madness.. but isn't there a gray area right between the two?.. there is a line, isn't there? I wonder to myself, how many people have succumb to the darkness by playing with the gray area around the madness which could suck them in. Beware the shoggoth. They have treavor right now. Treavor is a friend of mine from high school who could be a whole 'nother character. Right now he has 2 kids (or maybe 3) from 2-3 different women. He probably hasn't contributed as much as he could have because he just works shit jobs last I knew. Would you awaken him again? Maybe if I could find his number, you could help me wake Treavor Yoder up to be a part of our project. He's an excellent artist, and he could draw many of the characters that we are describing.
     
    when does 1+1+1=2? Think about it. That's when we take the higher dimensions and bring them down to the written level. You see, in the textual world we lose a dimension that we usually take for granted. As these words are being read by your mind, you fill in the blanks

    So then, past/present/future me, think about it hard.

    A riddle within the lines, you see. It's not fully expressed with the thought/words that are written in the line. Each of us must come up with his own conclusion about the reality that is reflected in the words within the line, because it all depends upon the definitions which are utilized. Each person who wants to read a word, comes up with his own definition of that word, does he not? It's always open to debate, any single thing that could be written is always open to debate, you see.

    Mojokabobo steps out and say, "Hey, shouldn't you be developing your characters a little bit more?"

    "As the indians would say, sometimes it is best to let the child burn itself if it will not listen to your words." Let us return to an old adage that I learned as a child;

    Two mothers were sitting outside at night with their sons. Both of the mothers were watching after their children while sitting by the fire. The white mother's child kept wanting to go to the fire and touch it. The little white boy would say, "OooooOOo, pretty fire" and go to reach his hand out to the fire. The white mother would scream, "No child, don't touch the fire!!" and reach out and grab her child's hand away from the fire.

    Over and over this would continue, as the little boy was fascinated by the fire and he wanted to touch it because he thought it was pretty. The boy kept trying over and over to touch the fire, but his mother would not let him. The mother repeatedly kept the young boy from touching the fire, fearing for his safety. Then suddenly the indian boy decided that he thought the fire was pretty too. He looked up at it in marvel, just realizing how pretty it was, and he started walking towards it.

    The white mother shouted out to the indian mother, "Stop your little boy!!" with great fear. Then she reached out her hand frightfully in an attempt to grab ahold of the little indian boy to stop him from getting burned, The indian mother's hand suddenly shot out into the air and snatched the white mother's hand away from her boy. The white woman looked up at the indian mother in wonder and disbelief. The indian mother said sternly to the white mother as she held her wrist in her own, "Sometimes it is better to let a child be burned if it will teach the child a lesson."

    The white mother was flabbergasted, and she exclaimed hastily, "but your boy, he will burn himself!! He's going to be burned!!" as the little indian boy kept on walking towards the fire. The Indian mother nodded and said, "well then he will learn it is hot, will he not?"

    And so, the little indian boy kept walking towards the fire. Both of the mothers looked on as the boy reached his hand out into the fire. The fire roared out and scorched the little boy's hand! The little boy yelled in pain!

    Then he ran back to the indian mother, crying. The indian mother held the little boy in her arms, soothing him. All the rest of the night the little indian boy did not go back to touch the fire. All the rest of the evening as they sat by the fire the little white boy kept on trying to evade his mother in a vain attempt to touch the fire, but his mother would not let him touch the fire. The little indian boy never tried to touch it again.

    There is a deep lesson in that. I know that it's all fictional and hypothetical, but who knows, maybe it did happen like this somewhere, sometime in the past. Two mothers sitting by a fire at night, one indian and one white, two with completely different styles of raising their children. The white one will not let her child reach out and touch the fire, but the indian mother would rather let her child learn the lesson for real, rather than in a warning.

    A part of me feels like that indian child at this point in time. I have reached out and touched the fire, you see. That is what this book is largely going to be about for me. My own story of reaching out and touching the fire, and getting burned. It's more about just being burned though, you see.. it's about the experience that that burn has given me. Just as the little indian child, I carry a scar from my burn. What scars do you carry, reader? What scars do you have?

    What physcial scars, I suppose we could start with. Though I suppose I am really asking you about what emotional scars you have. Aren't those the deepest scars of all?

    Anyways, back to the story, reader. What was I saying.. I was saying that I carry a scar from a burn. Well how did you burn yourself?.. you might ask. Well, I've quit drinking. I have spent the last 3 months completely free of alcohol, and as I go about the day I see alcohol everywhere that I go (fire). I feel a heavy heart as I look about the world that we live in and see so many people who are dancing with the devil right before me. So you could say that my scar would be my alcoholism. As I go on with life, I will surely be out with other people who are drinking. They will, at some point in time, offer me a drink. I will say, "I can't, I'm sorry, I'm an alcoholic", and then suddenly my scars will become more visible to them. They will not see all of my emotional scars, but they will know that I have the scars.. they may even pick at the wound a bit, and try and pour some salt in it.

    And so, I want to tell my story about giving up the 'demon drug' of alcohol (as the muslims would call it, I believe :-). For many reasons, really. I watched my father die, you know. I watched him die before my very eyes.

    Not literally, of course. Figuratively. Well, literally and figuratively. The poor guy was nearly 600 pounds when he finally did die, because he was so addicted to alcohol that he would drink 40-50 beers a day. He would just sit in his room and drink beer after beer after beer, and then maybe order a pizza because he was hungry.

    You see, he was a binge drinker. He tried to quit, of course. He would go for a year at a time or so, even, without drinking a single beer. But then he would fall off the wagon, and he would continue drinking again. Sorry if i'm a little bit disconjointed while i tell you this story, you see, i'm typing it while i'm looking at my wife and listening to her talking about going to the dump to dump a bunch of leaves that we're about to rake. I may have to take a break from the story for a bit reader, to go and rake some leaves.

    Ok, now i'm getting a last line in before I go, and my wife is getting mad as she walks away from me. So, I want to do this all, but there is a code that I must give you, reader, it's 210. You see, it's a secret code that I'm going to incorporate into this book. 210. It's all around us, really. 1+1=3. I have seen the fnords.

    Another jump in time. We've been gone for but a short time though. You see I've been out doing the yardwork with my wife and daughter, and I just stepped back inside. I have realized another thing from earlier, is that I shall now be writing as Ryan Morrissey as well as Joe Beazley. They will be my two avatars in this world. My character in this universe/multiverse that we are creating will be named Ryan Morrissey. This alternate version of myself is a real life person, but I will be taking a version of his name for my pseudonym for the avatar that I am creating in this universe of a book that we are about to set off on. I suppose I should say hello then..

    *coughs and clears his throat*

    "Hello. My name is Ryan. Something that's interesting about all of this is that I actually share a name with the author, Ben. You see, his first name is Benjamin, but his middle is Ryan."

    The reporter from the Kearney Hub says, "So, you and the author share the same name then, Ryan?"

    "Yes, that's right. He was looking for a name that he could use as a character in his book." replied Ryan.

    "And how on earth did he pick you out of everyone else? What is it about you that sparked his interest?" asks the reporter, sitting back in her chair.

    "Well, that's the funny thing. You see I was doing school work at the university library. I stopped into the library and got on computer to finish a paper I was working on for a sports class of mine (consult ryan in emails, get his copy of the paper! read it! study! title!). So I sat and did my report, and then I printed it off to take it to the class that it was for (I'm a bit of a procrastinator sometimes, but when something is due in class I get it done. *create a dialog for ryan later here*) What I didn't realize when I got off of that computer, was that I accidentally didn't sign out of my gmail. When Ben stepped into the library later on to get on a computer, he got on the computer that I was on. He went to get on his gmail, and when he did my gmail pulled up in front of him. He thought that it was his own gmail at first, and when he saw all of *My* emails, he thought that they were letters from me (you see, I do my homework on the computers, and then I email them to myself so that I can find them easy. I use the emails to myself as a sort of storage system, a way to save all of my homework digitally, by emailing them to myself. As long as I have that email I will be able to find my schoolwork or writings, because I can access my email on any computer that I go to. Do you have a computer right now? I could pull up the conversation(s) that I've had with him."

    "Ok, one second, let me open it for you." The reporter pulls out her tablet. She looks down at it and pushes the button to turn it on. She does a quick few swipes and taps with her hand. She selects Oddyssey and types in the gmail address to the url. Gmail pops right up and she hands the tablet over to Ryan.

    "Thank you." Says Ryan.

    "No problem." Says Jeremy, the reporter. (A sudden change of sex here, if you notice. Go back and look. This could be easily changed, or not. It all depends on how dedicated of an editing job I want to do. It could also be used as a plot twist. What if, all of a sudden, we're in a new book.. and in this book, we're observing a whole new universe where Jeremy is the name of the reporter. Maybe in another Universe, the name of the reporter is Sarah, and we were right with the first guess all along. You see, this is where I am pretending to be the character of Ryan Morrissey meeting a reporter from the local newspaper, the Kearney Hub. He will be interviewed, of course, if this book does come along nicely over the next few months. We will write this book through the characters of our separate and combined efforts. Each of you hold a little bit of the book in your unique characters. I am writing Oliver as the character Celine Hagbard. Hagbard has been out in the ocean for decades in his giant yellow submarine.)

    Ryan presses down on the tablet selecting an email of his between Benjamin and himself. Ryan says, "You see, he saw my email to myself, and he thought that it was an email from me to his own gmail account.. but he was in my gmail account was the thing. He opened up my email that had my homework assignment in it, and he thought that I was emailing him my 5 page paper."

    "Why did he think you were emailing him your homework?" asks the reporter.

    "Well, I don't know.. I guess he thought I was a wierdo, or something, maybe he thought that I wanted to know what he thought of it, or something.. I can't really say that I know what he thought when he saw the email from me to myself.. but I can tell you what he said. He wrote me back in an email (and so he was essentially emailing myself), "Ummm, thank you, I guess.. I don't know if I'll have the time to read this or not, but maybe I'll look over it later, if I have the time."

    "So he said that he'd look at your homework later on??" asks the reporter.

    "Yeah, I think that's when he suddenly realize that he wasn't in his own email." replied Ryan, "Then things get a little wierd."

    "Wierd, you say?" asks the reporter.

    "Well yeah, you see.. he was going to delete all of my emails and stuff, because that's what he does when he finds people's gmails open in the library. I got lucky though.. instead of deleting all of my emails, he decided to have a little psychotic pretend conversation between him and his brother matt, here in my emails." says Ryan.

    "A psychotic ranting, you say?.. did this scare you at all?" Jeremy asks, tilting his head curiously.

    "Oh god no! It was so funny when I went back to my gmail later on! It made me laugh so hard. He sure is a funny guy when he wants to be. He was threatening to shit on my bed :)"
    **Break in the book to go and eat supper at the local church**

    Welcome back to the book, reader. I just came back from the local church. They had a free will donation supper along with an auction. I thought about putting my name on a couple of things, and I did put my name on one thing.. There was a wine bottle with the word, "Believe" written on it in cursive. Inside the wine bottle was a long cord stretched around with little light bubbles on it ocassionaly. I put my name down and wrote 35 dollars. I wonder if I will win?. (oh, and btw, (on a different level) I didn't win)

    Ok.. studying time. I'm going to scroll back up to earlier and read what i've written, to see where I'll go.

    Ok, I'm back. I went and took a nap after writing for a bit above here, then when I woke up my deadline had passed. It's now past 8pm on sunday, so this is all I can do for my book so far, reader!!

  2. I typed all of that and came up with all of that in like, an hour or so.. Fascinating.


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