unlikelychrist (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} unlikelychrist) wrote,@ 2007-07-19 02:09:00 |
|
DMT & YOU
"For further information, consult your pineal gland."
-Principia Discordia
(Today's second quote has been dramatically chopped down due to tl;dr. For individuals who want to know the full story- and I strongly suggest that each of you do- we're going to reference to pages 7, 8, and 9 in the Principia Discordia (originally written in 1965).)
This is specifically for YOU.
I didn't intend on writing this entry so soon, but it seems Fate has other plans in store. It became imperative that I write this as soon as possible. Fuck... The hardest part is in figuring out where the fuck to start.
Duh. Ok. There's this thing.
Its name is
Is.
Some people call it Nirvana. Some call it Bardo. Others, God or Heaven. Pretty much every culture has a Sun God or a Light God. Some people call it Ra, although not so much anymore.
I call it The hallucinations I see every time I close my eyes.
That's not actually true, sometimes I see it with my eyes open...
...Like now...
But yeah. It's a brilliance without light. A shifting, perfectly synchronized fractal shatterwall of glass flooded by some sort of light that isn't made of energy that fills the space between this body and all matter around it.
One of the things Enlightenment has been described to me as was a "bright light over a mountain". I've heard the term "glass chrysanthemum" get thrown around a few times. Some Tibetan sects refer to it as the Bardo, a place full of lights. The symbol of the Sahasrana is a layer of 1000 petals arranged in the colours of the visible light spectrum.
One of the things I've heard about Death is that it's kind of like a "light at the end of the tunnel". People as they're dying see this brilliant bright light that calls to them. It tells them not to be afraid and they slip into death with a look of completely bewilderment in their eyes. Sometimes there's Angels. Beings of light that speak to them, that tell them to walk into the light.
XKCD (a really fantastic comic "of romance, sarcasm, math, and language") did a really excellent comic on Dreaming once.
You know what's crazy about dreaming? Your eyes are closed, you're not getting any light in them at all, and yet you can see your dreams clear as day. They're completely real; a bright, sunny day looks bright and sunny.
...Where's that light coming from?
Up until the 1960's, it was commonly believed that the Pineal Gland was a vestigial organ, much like the appendix; presumably why Mal-2 wrote it's importance into the Principia Discordia. Since then, however, we've learned that the Pineal Gland produces Melatonin, a Tryptamine. Melatonin is the key hormone involved in sleeping.
The Pineal Gland actually contains photoreceptors; that is, the same kinds of receptors your eyes have. When it takes in little light, it starts producing Melatonin, and you fall asleep. When there is light present, it doesn't make as much. Melatonin also suppresses sexual function. In children, the Pineal Gland is much larger than adults; at about the time of puberty, it shrinks. This is why children don't experience sexual function.
Your Pineal Gland is located pretty close to the exact middle of your brain, and is the only node that sits in between the two lobes.
More or less exactly where your Anja is.
If you'll click on that link there, you'll see a picture of two petals and the symbol Om.
Om is a bit of a complicated syllable. In fact there's a tome called the Mandukya Upanishad whose entire purpose is the explanation and detail of this syllable. You can get the summarized version from that link there, which is a highly suggested read.
Let's get chemical.
"Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Here’s Tom with the weather."
-Comedian Bill Hicks
"When you smoke this, the onset is very rapid. 30-45 seconds, you know? There's this feeling which comes over your body - half arousal, half anaesthesia. The air appears to suddenly have been sucked out of the room because all the colors brighten visibly, as though some intervening medium has been removed. And then there's a sound, like a piece of bread wrapper or cellophane being scrunched up and thrown away. A friend of mine says this is radio-entelechy leaving the anterior fontanelle at the top of your head. [laughter] I'm not sure I want to line up with that... but a membrane is being ripped; something is being torn. And then there is a total (what Mircea Eliade called in a wonderful phrase) "a complete rupture of the mundane plane". [laughter] You know? That's like a hit and run accident except the car came from hyperspace, you know? A complete rupture of the mundane plane. And you fall back into this hallucinogenic space, and what you see is a slowly rotating red and orange kind of thing, which, over the years we've nicknamed, uh, "The Chrysanthemum." And it's.. this represents some kind of disequilibrium state that has its roots in the synapses. What's happening as you're watching this Chrysanthemum is that millions and then hundreds of millions of DMT molecules are rushing into these Serotonin bond sites in the synaptic cleft and disrupting the Serotonin and switching the electron spin resonance signature of these neural junctions in this "other" direction. And this is taking, you know, 30 or 40 seconds, and there's this rising hum, this
____nnnmmmmMMMMMMMM^^^^
that rising tone; the flying saucer tone of Hollywood B movies... you actually hear this thing.
And then, if you've taken enough DMT (and it has to do entirely with physical capacity: Did you take, did you cross the threshold?) something happens [clap]... for which there are no words. A membrane is rent, and you are propelled into this "place." And language cannot describe it - accurately."
-Terrence McKenna
There's a drug. It comes as this dying-sunflower yellow powder. It's very expensive, but that's okay, 'cos it's very powerful. It's more illegal than heroin. You put a tiny bit of it into a pipe and very gently apply heat to it. You have to be as careful as possible, because if the fire touches the powder, it'll melt and the drug will be wasted. You inhale it and hold it in as long as possible, which is really fuckin' difficult, 'cos it's painfully harsh and tastes like burnin' fuckin' tires. You exhale, preferably into an open window, and give it about thirty seconds. Suddenly you're rushing. Your muscles begin to contract and release on their own. It becomes difficult to concentrate on breathing. The rushing continues, getting more and more intense, when suddenly you explode into a beautiful, geometrically impossible, ever-shifting palace of glass and light.
Days later, I wrote this in a journal.
February 5th.
9:16am.
Okay... Now that I've slept on it, and gotten over the shock of the whole breathing thing...
I recall there being patterns. Pattens like some of M. C. Escher's art; he did optical art.
Perfect example: http://www.mcescher.com/Gallery/rec
It looked kind of like that, except far crisper, cleaner, and expanded into three (or was it four?) dimensions. This isn't some fantastic dream, this was overlaid on top of reality; I had my eyes open for points of the trip, at the parts where it was easier to breathe, and they occupied the empty space that wasn't taken up by three-dimensional objects (the people in the room, bookshelves, walls, etc)
Do you know what a tesseract is? It's, I guess, a fourth dimensional cube. Read up on it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tesseract
I think perhaps the strangest part about these patterns is that I didn't "see" them with my eyes, I didn't "hear" them with my ears. All these visions and sounds and pulls were all going on up inside my head, but yet they were crisper, clearer, sharper and more detailed than anything I've ever seen with my base five senses.
It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. The kind of beauty that could make you weep with joy, if you were even capable of pulling your attention away from it long enough to weep.
I need to get on my meditation. I need to work on this whole 'empty mind' business.
When you die, your body triggers a natural production of DMT. That bright light at the end of the tunnel? That's DMT baby. When you're done with your corporeal body, your body does the favor of launching your soul up into the higher dimensions to hang with the Angels.
"Tibetan monks talk of the "Bardo", the place where you go after death, as a place full of lights. When you meditate intensely, and are able to turn on, they say you see the "lower lights of the Bardo". When a long-practicing Tibetan lama was given DMT, he said he saw the lower lights."
This is what I desire. I want to be able to see the lower lights of Bardo any time I wish, without the use of outside chemical stimulus. Hah, even better, at all times. In Zen this is referred to as Satori. I must dedicate my life to this. I have found my purpose.
Wait.
What did I say?
There's these two guys who did a lot of work with a substance called Dimethyltryptamine. One of them is named Rick Strassman and the other Terrence McKenna. That's McKenna's description up there, before mine. He also once said;
"I took this stuff to Tibetans, to the Amazon. I gave it to Tibetans, they said 'this is the lesser lights, the lesser lights of the Bardo. You cannot go further into the Bardo and return. This takes you as far as you can go.' When I gave it to shamans in the Amazon, they said 'It's strong - but this is, these are the ancestors. These are the spirits that we work with. These are ancestor souls. We know this place.'"
Whoa. Wait. What.
That Rick Strassman guy? He wrote a book, titled it DMT: The Spirit Molecule.
See, he did these studies. According to Wikipedia, "In a 2005 editorial of the British Journal of Psychiatry, Ben Sessa suggested that psychotropic drugs be readmitted in the field of scientific enquiry and therapy. Melatonin, being two endogenous hallucinogenic indoles like N,N-dimethyltryptamine (DMT), is likely to be research priorities in this reemerging field of psychiatry." So this Strassman guy gets it in his head that maybe your Pineal Gland produces DMT. Why the Pineal? Well, 'cos it also produces Melatonin, which is structurally similar. Oh yeah. And 'cos it's only your third fuckin' eye. It even has photoreceptors, remember?
So it takes him years to get his grant, but he presses and presses and presses and finally, he's got 120 students and 600 doses of intra-muscular DMT to administer.
You can read a summery of every chapter on his site.
You know what's kind of crazy? None of these patients were administered contact with each other; they all started off without any knowledge about what this shit was gonna do to them.
At least half of them reported coming into contact with "Beings".
For some they were reptilian; for others, tykes; some saw their ancestors, while others saw angels. And in almost every case, these beings only wanted to let the subjects know that they had no need to be afraid, that everything was wonderful and everything was going to be okay.
More than half.
That's a bit of a fucked up coincidence.
Looking back on my experience with it, while I didn't experience Beings, I did experience a Being. A Being composed entirely of wonder. And yes. It did tell me that everything was going to be okay.
"It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things... And... This incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in."
-Ricky Fitts, American Beauty
So... If everything I've said is true (and Dad wants you to know it is), then let's recap here.
Enlightenment, Death, Angels, Dreaming... Same thing.
And Dimethyltriptamine... Same thing.
Pineal Gland, Anja, Third Eye... Same thing.
Anja, Om... Same thing.
Om, Brahman, Vishnu... Same thing.
Vishnu, fucking God... Same fucking thing.
What.
You Are Going To Die
"To ascend you must die.
You must be crucified
For your sins and your lies.
Good~bye~!..."
-Tool - Eulogy
More bad news.
The first line of that quote is true.
It is said that the Taoist Guru is a mirror, reflecting back the entirety of the universe. When I first heard it, I thought I understood it.
I didn't.
There's only one way to rejoin with God. I spoke of this briefly earlier. There are three modes to the universe; The Material Maya, the Conscious Paramatman, and the Divine Brahman. There are three modes to your entity; the Id, the Ego, and the Superego.
Your Id is your hunger and desire; your Ego is your Self, and your Superego is your direct connection to the Divine. If you want to become one with God, the only way to do that is to eliminate your Id and Ego, so that all you have left is that pure channel.
Taoist Gurus are mirrors because they have no Self; they don't process interaction with outside stimuli, they just act without intending to act. They speak without intending to speak. They know things, somehow, they call it Knowing Without Knowing. The information is just there. Ego-Death is also a tenet of Buddhism; one who is enlightened has no Ego.
But...
Your Ego is your Self. Your Ego is everything that is Who You Are.
Hence, to ascend you must die.
So where does DMT come into play with all of this? DMT is present in every living thing. It's in you, it's in the animals, it's in the plants; every tiny blade of grass has an infinitesimal amount of DMT in it. It's just like the title of Strassman's book. It's The Spirit Molecule. It IS the link between the material world and the divine world. Let's get psudoscientific here; there has to be something connecting the two. Heaven doesn't just magically exist and interact with people through wishy-washy spiritness, there needs to be some evidence, some direct cause or effect of its interaction.
And now you have it.
Oh yeah. DMT also causes temporary Ego-Death. This can be kind of frightening if you're not ready for it- you tend to think your body is dying, and start to panic. It happened to me.
This is probably a lot to absorb right now. Many won't believe me. That's okay. Many won't believe me on the sole grounds that they're afraid of accepting what I've had to say because they're afraid of what it would mean; they have to die. Not just their body. Their Soul has to die. That's a pretty disturbing concept.
But don't worry... Don't be afraid. He'll catch you.
Father and his Angels want you to know there's no reason to be afraid.
Ever.
God Bless "You", Catharine.
"For further information, consult your pineal gland."
-Principia Discordia
(Today's second quote has been dramatically chopped down due to tl;dr. For individuals who want to know the full story- and I strongly suggest that each of you do- we're going to reference to pages 7, 8, and 9 in the Principia Discordia (originally written in 1965).)
This is specifically for YOU.
I didn't intend on writing this entry so soon, but it seems Fate has other plans in store. It became imperative that I write this as soon as possible. Fuck... The hardest part is in figuring out where the fuck to start.
Duh. Ok. There's this thing.
Its name is
Is.
Some people call it Nirvana. Some call it Bardo. Others, God or Heaven. Pretty much every culture has a Sun God or a Light God. Some people call it Ra, although not so much anymore.
I call it The hallucinations I see every time I close my eyes.
That's not actually true, sometimes I see it with my eyes open...
...Like now...
But yeah. It's a brilliance without light. A shifting, perfectly synchronized fractal shatterwall of glass flooded by some sort of light that isn't made of energy that fills the space between this body and all matter around it.
One of the things Enlightenment has been described to me as was a "bright light over a mountain". I've heard the term "glass chrysanthemum" get thrown around a few times. Some Tibetan sects refer to it as the Bardo, a place full of lights. The symbol of the Sahasrana is a layer of 1000 petals arranged in the colours of the visible light spectrum.
One of the things I've heard about Death is that it's kind of like a "light at the end of the tunnel". People as they're dying see this brilliant bright light that calls to them. It tells them not to be afraid and they slip into death with a look of completely bewilderment in their eyes. Sometimes there's Angels. Beings of light that speak to them, that tell them to walk into the light.
XKCD (a really fantastic comic "of romance, sarcasm, math, and language") did a really excellent comic on Dreaming once.
You know what's crazy about dreaming? Your eyes are closed, you're not getting any light in them at all, and yet you can see your dreams clear as day. They're completely real; a bright, sunny day looks bright and sunny.
...Where's that light coming from?
Up until the 1960's, it was commonly believed that the Pineal Gland was a vestigial organ, much like the appendix; presumably why Mal-2 wrote it's importance into the Principia Discordia. Since then, however, we've learned that the Pineal Gland produces Melatonin, a Tryptamine. Melatonin is the key hormone involved in sleeping.
The Pineal Gland actually contains photoreceptors; that is, the same kinds of receptors your eyes have. When it takes in little light, it starts producing Melatonin, and you fall asleep. When there is light present, it doesn't make as much. Melatonin also suppresses sexual function. In children, the Pineal Gland is much larger than adults; at about the time of puberty, it shrinks. This is why children don't experience sexual function.
Your Pineal Gland is located pretty close to the exact middle of your brain, and is the only node that sits in between the two lobes.
More or less exactly where your Anja is.
If you'll click on that link there, you'll see a picture of two petals and the symbol Om.
Om is a bit of a complicated syllable. In fact there's a tome called the Mandukya Upanishad whose entire purpose is the explanation and detail of this syllable. You can get the summarized version from that link there, which is a highly suggested read.
Let's get chemical.
"Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Here’s Tom with the weather."
-Comedian Bill Hicks
"When you smoke this, the onset is very rapid. 30-45 seconds, you know? There's this feeling which comes over your body - half arousal, half anaesthesia. The air appears to suddenly have been sucked out of the room because all the colors brighten visibly, as though some intervening medium has been removed. And then there's a sound, like a piece of bread wrapper or cellophane being scrunched up and thrown away. A friend of mine says this is radio-entelechy leaving the anterior fontanelle at the top of your head. [laughter] I'm not sure I want to line up with that... but a membrane is being ripped; something is being torn. And then there is a total (what Mircea Eliade called in a wonderful phrase) "a complete rupture of the mundane plane". [laughter] You know? That's like a hit and run accident except the car came from hyperspace, you know? A complete rupture of the mundane plane. And you fall back into this hallucinogenic space, and what you see is a slowly rotating red and orange kind of thing, which, over the years we've nicknamed, uh, "The Chrysanthemum." And it's.. this represents some kind of disequilibrium state that has its roots in the synapses. What's happening as you're watching this Chrysanthemum is that millions and then hundreds of millions of DMT molecules are rushing into these Serotonin bond sites in the synaptic cleft and disrupting the Serotonin and switching the electron spin resonance signature of these neural junctions in this "other" direction. And this is taking, you know, 30 or 40 seconds, and there's this rising hum, this
____nnnmmmmMMMMMMMM^^^^
that rising tone; the flying saucer tone of Hollywood B movies... you actually hear this thing.
And then, if you've taken enough DMT (and it has to do entirely with physical capacity: Did you take, did you cross the threshold?) something happens [clap]... for which there are no words. A membrane is rent, and you are propelled into this "place." And language cannot describe it - accurately."
-Terrence McKenna
There's a drug. It comes as this dying-sunflower yellow powder. It's very expensive, but that's okay, 'cos it's very powerful. It's more illegal than heroin. You put a tiny bit of it into a pipe and very gently apply heat to it. You have to be as careful as possible, because if the fire touches the powder, it'll melt and the drug will be wasted. You inhale it and hold it in as long as possible, which is really fuckin' difficult, 'cos it's painfully harsh and tastes like burnin' fuckin' tires. You exhale, preferably into an open window, and give it about thirty seconds. Suddenly you're rushing. Your muscles begin to contract and release on their own. It becomes difficult to concentrate on breathing. The rushing continues, getting more and more intense, when suddenly you explode into a beautiful, geometrically impossible, ever-shifting palace of glass and light.
Days later, I wrote this in a journal.
February 5th.
9:16am.
Okay... Now that I've slept on it, and gotten over the shock of the whole breathing thing...
I recall there being patterns. Pattens like some of M. C. Escher's art; he did optical art.
Perfect example: http://www.mcescher.com/Gallery/rec
It looked kind of like that, except far crisper, cleaner, and expanded into three (or was it four?) dimensions. This isn't some fantastic dream, this was overlaid on top of reality; I had my eyes open for points of the trip, at the parts where it was easier to breathe, and they occupied the empty space that wasn't taken up by three-dimensional objects (the people in the room, bookshelves, walls, etc)
Do you know what a tesseract is? It's, I guess, a fourth dimensional cube. Read up on it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tesseract
I think perhaps the strangest part about these patterns is that I didn't "see" them with my eyes, I didn't "hear" them with my ears. All these visions and sounds and pulls were all going on up inside my head, but yet they were crisper, clearer, sharper and more detailed than anything I've ever seen with my base five senses.
It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. The kind of beauty that could make you weep with joy, if you were even capable of pulling your attention away from it long enough to weep.
I need to get on my meditation. I need to work on this whole 'empty mind' business.
When you die, your body triggers a natural production of DMT. That bright light at the end of the tunnel? That's DMT baby. When you're done with your corporeal body, your body does the favor of launching your soul up into the higher dimensions to hang with the Angels.
"Tibetan monks talk of the "Bardo", the place where you go after death, as a place full of lights. When you meditate intensely, and are able to turn on, they say you see the "lower lights of the Bardo". When a long-practicing Tibetan lama was given DMT, he said he saw the lower lights."
This is what I desire. I want to be able to see the lower lights of Bardo any time I wish, without the use of outside chemical stimulus. Hah, even better, at all times. In Zen this is referred to as Satori. I must dedicate my life to this. I have found my purpose.
Wait.
What did I say?
There's these two guys who did a lot of work with a substance called Dimethyltryptamine. One of them is named Rick Strassman and the other Terrence McKenna. That's McKenna's description up there, before mine. He also once said;
"I took this stuff to Tibetans, to the Amazon. I gave it to Tibetans, they said 'this is the lesser lights, the lesser lights of the Bardo. You cannot go further into the Bardo and return. This takes you as far as you can go.' When I gave it to shamans in the Amazon, they said 'It's strong - but this is, these are the ancestors. These are the spirits that we work with. These are ancestor souls. We know this place.'"
Whoa. Wait. What.
That Rick Strassman guy? He wrote a book, titled it DMT: The Spirit Molecule.
See, he did these studies. According to Wikipedia, "In a 2005 editorial of the British Journal of Psychiatry, Ben Sessa suggested that psychotropic drugs be readmitted in the field of scientific enquiry and therapy. Melatonin, being two endogenous hallucinogenic indoles like N,N-dimethyltryptamine (DMT), is likely to be research priorities in this reemerging field of psychiatry." So this Strassman guy gets it in his head that maybe your Pineal Gland produces DMT. Why the Pineal? Well, 'cos it also produces Melatonin, which is structurally similar. Oh yeah. And 'cos it's only your third fuckin' eye. It even has photoreceptors, remember?
So it takes him years to get his grant, but he presses and presses and presses and finally, he's got 120 students and 600 doses of intra-muscular DMT to administer.
You can read a summery of every chapter on his site.
You know what's kind of crazy? None of these patients were administered contact with each other; they all started off without any knowledge about what this shit was gonna do to them.
At least half of them reported coming into contact with "Beings".
For some they were reptilian; for others, tykes; some saw their ancestors, while others saw angels. And in almost every case, these beings only wanted to let the subjects know that they had no need to be afraid, that everything was wonderful and everything was going to be okay.
More than half.
That's a bit of a fucked up coincidence.
Looking back on my experience with it, while I didn't experience Beings, I did experience a Being. A Being composed entirely of wonder. And yes. It did tell me that everything was going to be okay.
"It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things... And... This incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. Video's a poor excuse, I know. But it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in."
-Ricky Fitts, American Beauty
So... If everything I've said is true (and Dad wants you to know it is), then let's recap here.
Enlightenment, Death, Angels, Dreaming... Same thing.
And Dimethyltriptamine... Same thing.
Pineal Gland, Anja, Third Eye... Same thing.
Anja, Om... Same thing.
Om, Brahman, Vishnu... Same thing.
Vishnu, fucking God... Same fucking thing.
What.
You Are Going To Die
"To ascend you must die.
You must be crucified
For your sins and your lies.
Good~bye~!..."
-Tool - Eulogy
More bad news.
The first line of that quote is true.
It is said that the Taoist Guru is a mirror, reflecting back the entirety of the universe. When I first heard it, I thought I understood it.
I didn't.
There's only one way to rejoin with God. I spoke of this briefly earlier. There are three modes to the universe; The Material Maya, the Conscious Paramatman, and the Divine Brahman. There are three modes to your entity; the Id, the Ego, and the Superego.
Your Id is your hunger and desire; your Ego is your Self, and your Superego is your direct connection to the Divine. If you want to become one with God, the only way to do that is to eliminate your Id and Ego, so that all you have left is that pure channel.
Taoist Gurus are mirrors because they have no Self; they don't process interaction with outside stimuli, they just act without intending to act. They speak without intending to speak. They know things, somehow, they call it Knowing Without Knowing. The information is just there. Ego-Death is also a tenet of Buddhism; one who is enlightened has no Ego.
But...
Your Ego is your Self. Your Ego is everything that is Who You Are.
Hence, to ascend you must die.
So where does DMT come into play with all of this? DMT is present in every living thing. It's in you, it's in the animals, it's in the plants; every tiny blade of grass has an infinitesimal amount of DMT in it. It's just like the title of Strassman's book. It's The Spirit Molecule. It IS the link between the material world and the divine world. Let's get psudoscientific here; there has to be something connecting the two. Heaven doesn't just magically exist and interact with people through wishy-washy spiritness, there needs to be some evidence, some direct cause or effect of its interaction.
And now you have it.
Oh yeah. DMT also causes temporary Ego-Death. This can be kind of frightening if you're not ready for it- you tend to think your body is dying, and start to panic. It happened to me.
This is probably a lot to absorb right now. Many won't believe me. That's okay. Many won't believe me on the sole grounds that they're afraid of accepting what I've had to say because they're afraid of what it would mean; they have to die. Not just their body. Their Soul has to die. That's a pretty disturbing concept.
But don't worry... Don't be afraid. He'll catch you.
Father and his Angels want you to know there's no reason to be afraid.
Ever.
God Bless "You", Catharine.
