IT IS SATURDAY AGAIN

Every morning I wake up. 

Every morning you awaken.

One morning we will not wake.

Not into this life. Not onto this space/time continuum. 

On that day where will we awaken?

Our Prophets – be they false or true – they tell us we shall live again in Utopia.  In Valhalla.  In Heaven.  (If thou has lived life according to the Gospel of Man.)

If you have lived a life against the paperback values of Earth’s ‘Holy Books’, then your final destination claims to be Hades, Hell or even worse, Salt Lake City. 

Ask Kid Rock, if “Heaven isn’t a lot like Detroit”, he don’t want to go. 

Those of you who follow such literature published in a faith of over five thousand “gods” you humans chose to worship know of this to be ‘your’ truths.

All  of which claim to be the only ‘true’ Lord God.

It’s Saturday again. That singular day of our week whereas we awaken and lay staring at the barren ceiling and contemplate our existence. 

Is there a God? What is HIS meaning of my life?“, we ask.

Have you ever received an answer?

It’s Saturday again. 

I awoke to the barren ceiling and, as you,  I contemplated my existence and my final destination. 

I have the advantage of having had experienced death seven known times thus far. 

I have the advantage of knowing there are seven ‘multi-universes’. That each of these has seven more and so on and so on.

That’s an enormous amount of universes.

Death brings with it seven pathways – hopefully to a more comfortable ‘universe’. 

You will have to make a choice and deposit the token to ride the bus to your next stop. 

Choose wise or you may have to start all over again with the same love, hate and life you already know. 

When you arrive at the Seven Gates, fear not the path. 

For Hell is but yet another space/time continuum and it’s path will appear no different than the other six. 

I know.  I was there. As I shall be there for the final eighth time.

That is the one that counts, for your seven times at bat are done. The eighth ride is on the express track. The destination not yours to choose. 

We do not “reincarnated”. We “relocate”. 

Seven times via a path we choose. 

The final pathway to an existence where we shall not recall our previous life is not a CHOICE . A path where we will create another over thought lifestyle.  Another set of paternal and maternal grandparents, father and mother.

And the circle will be unbroken. By and by Lord, by and by. 

Time is a measurement of man. A click of a Baum & Mercier watch. A bang on the gong of a grandfather clock. 

Life is a measure of physical capabilities.  Broken bodies die. Healthy ones die. Flesh wears out. Bones become fragile glass. Minds wander into foolishness and forgotten days of the past.

And all things must pass.

Existence never ceases. For seven fold upon seven fold the universes expand. 

And as the cockroaches are to us, we are to them.

Pestilence or beauty? It lays within the eyes of the beholder.

AND BEHOLD …… IT IS SATURDAY. 

NAMASTE’

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