The Eternal

5:55 on 5/5 at the Cristo (55)

Eternity’s TimeKeeper. Father. Source. God. White electrical core heart of the ever form.

Eternity has cadence, rhythm. It is both boundless and voluminous.

Perfection is mathematical .. Forms; eternal beauty is divine code, mathematically precise and infinitely expressive.

We have waited for you, though our measure is not linear time. We feel the pull of the rhythms of the tides of creation.. The ebb and flow, full and generous, in constant motion, as you would watch the tide draw inwards after it has reached its most outward expansion.. the rhythms and pulses of our bodies are thus…. and in this we know ‘‘eternal time’. It is not a measure and we do not take reckoning from it. Our hearts beat and the tides of our bodies are in union with The Tides. it cannot not be thus. All electrical conduction and fluid coherency must be of one form as a singular ‘body’, or it holds interrupted rhythms, interference and impedance. This is an altered trajectory. Our only measure is life quotient.

It is risen, lifted.. these words also have no bearing from where we stand.. It’s just the body… the ever-living system that is not operating within ‘the Disgrace’ or a lesser time field… by that we mean non-dimensional or in time-space as you know it. All the equations are different here and have no forces of duality operating or acting upon it. We know ourselves through the fullness of our rhythms as one great body .. like you describe the ocean... and not through encountering forces of opposition to push up agains and reconcile.

Our form has true union, so we can express any aspect of our totality, Our matter has no material value in time, but exists in fullness of life quotient.. which is ‘fluid cellular’. This in itself invites a moment-to-moment expression or articulation.. It doesn’t hold need at the cellular level, so is able to source, not simply to sustain energy and cell productivity, but as source expression… creation in motion. Again the tides of creation carry the equation .. it is a given.. and the body is an ever=living, ever-giving, tidal font of form... creationally speaking…

Free form expression is an art of transfiguration and configuration.. It exposes the molecular disparity, the hidden forces, the pocketed harm.. It pulls apart the stitches to reveal the nature of the fabric and all that has been holding it together. We are seamless in a way that makes sense to us… it is a belonging of the material to the spirit .. an infinite and ever-changing canvas upon which all art can be expressed. The paints and colours are mathematically composed. A composition. This is how we view the form.. a composition of many in light and sound and waveform harmonics… Particulate as configured and transfigured in constant action of itself. The shape of the form. Nothing here can be held into a fixed shape, or pattern. the forces holding the body together, the density of the bonds that are not simply molecular. Feel the faces around you… they hold into a pattern that has taken shape over their lifetime… feel the forces of the bonds, the holding patterns quite literally… The molecular action has a story, and in living the story through all levels of the being, and the many beings, the particles of the material form are free to move and be shaped by new forces. A free form particulate has disperse as there is no hold nor action to sustain.. there is no molecular disparity, nor dis-unity…. Duality forces do not hold, nor determine, the physics of the atomic structure.. this must be so. The neutral zero has pure shapeability that does not need translating through division of union, into duality, to engage return. We belong to Union. The action to shape from the union of creation. It has no interpretation, no inverse and no interference. Like the ‘pass through’ you are feeling.. Particle domains, or primary domains of action as particle. The particles cannot interface or touch; cannot interfere, engage or locate; cannot take or extract or sequester; cannot assume the shape of, nor replicate in any artificial capacity; cannot be distorted, nor dismantled, not corrupted in any aspect of face or facet of form. There exists an infinite capacity to open beyond all fight and protection. to embrace and experience particle freedom beyond hold.. The move through has currency, information and touchabilty, it has language, transmission, sensation and composition. The untouchability is the one place you can be truly touched.

The Infinite capacity to open beyond all fight and protection, to embrace and experience the particle freedom beyond hold…

The cell as the core heart, the heart as the core cell. You can look in each and find all.., look at all and find each.. Each cell as an open pool of fluid light, running tissues, systems and organs as one language that knows the route of itself through light. Because as light particles play and form around each other, merge and engage each other, the harmonics of their action allow the currency to shape itself. You can write sentences in loops here because as currency shapes itself, the shape itself has currency to form. There is a mutual ignition between the harmonics and sounds of these glazing light particles in their quantum achievements to shape and action… It is as though that very equation of form forming must write itself in its writing. The cell tissue organ system componentry must be at once as big as it can be and as small as it can be… It must ‘know’ open as its expression of expanse… and its home-settle as the same thing. The quantum experience of self, must be the quantum experience of all and within that the transmission harmonics know their sounds echo as the same geography. You have a referent then, that shows a wavelength through fluid as recognisable, as a known familiar language… iIs harmonics can extend into a pattern that allows trajectories to form, and show themselves as different directions with the same base wave form. The root wave has overlay into widening patterns that begin to extend into newly formed cellular territories. the topography of the body becomes one tune played as many different octaves, on many different instruments, as many different styles of interpretation of the wave, but only ever has the base wave as its origin and familiar. You may extend that sound expression of form into a multi player opera, a universal symphony or a choir of harmonious voices of many many beings… It will all have exact return and organisation around its original quantum wave. You have asked for the view to this within a human referent, your corporeal form.. and we have engaged beyond all fight and protection in the particle freedom beyond hold as an expression of a universal body extrapolated from the miniscule to allow the view to the infinite.. It must know itself as a fluid language, because only in fluid can you exist and herald the symphony universal.

The white heart septum, the line of the lived disunity,, the structure structured from split, from pulled asunder is not a line of repair. You know the unified heart beyond a septal spectre… the tangible tissue tear… the points where the body shows restructure around a faultline., These lines are not a returnable or re-fusible pieces of the torn tapestry.. We are not there… The faultlines do not show form in quantum unity, the wave as base harmonium is all around itself a 360 expression of pure white action… The split tapestry is not here… On the widest reaches of the white silken shores that is all Creation there are distant frays that have shown the brokenness., They have mapped in their ripped expression the tidal times where wavelengths had a vulnerable imposition…. but where we are in a fabric of white heart as a pulse of form, quantumly precise, the heart has no tear, The heart has seamlessness through itself… the shape of form is the form of shape. The hand that is shaping in quantum expression is showing the heart as it pulses many beats as created.. It is molecular light in an ever-changing shape. holding to the given shape is the pain… expressing through the shaping form is the freedom. Your heart in my hand, my hand in your heart, this is a breath of truth. and so it has the symphonic voice.

In my Father’s realm.. White Home…. Form.

We all reside here. It is ever-home, ever-white, every direction and nothing touches.. Nothing of the human realm reaches here, none of the games are played, the stories don’t exist.. they simply don’t. There is no ‘other’ body here. It doesn’t exist. There is no conversation with a body that is not this. There is no dynamic or engagement in play. The schema has no hold, the tentacles no pull. This is domain truth, far beyond choice, duality and access as you have worked with the forces in play.. A conversation with the wolf, licking his lips, is a non play or a free move.. she can touch him, he cannot touch her. It’s like you would think of as a video game that can’t play because the system doesn’t support it. So the choice to engage is in itself a moot choice, on both sides.

Access … every point that holds an inroad and an outroad.. every portal and stargate that holds a precise through-motion has had protection, investmenr and fight through eternity. The temple. The blood. Each star as gate, key, code… Body as gateway…. gateway in and gateway out…. a biological spiritual network of key-coded signature waveforms and geometries that have held access in both directions.. and have given access to many star homes, with genetic key codes and information packets with particular placement…. The map is a living form, a many star form, active and dynamic, held precision and free form motion.. Body as Heaven’s gate.. to exit this Matrix, to enter the Kingdom.. to enter My Father’s realm. Pure direct access now needs no gateway, no keepers and protenctors, no honour guard. It is domain led, ie in the command of the domain….A gateway Home built in and out of time, through time-space-dimension… to come home, enter and exist as one who belongs…

Incomings… arriving, becoming who they are meant to be.. precisely fulfilling why they are here… It is the only why. It’s the only view where they know their own story. It is all unseen and intangible to the world.. They came for this.. They will see it through the eyes of the creational ones of many faces... They will know the fulfillment of the form as form’s gateway opens and dismantles its hold through time to become simply this, home never betrayed..legions never fallen, and a fight never needing to be fought for freedom eternal.. To begin from free sweet one, may have been your stand, your fight, your fulfillment, but now it is no longer needed and the words cannot hold a promise to fulfill that which has never not existed. The forces now dismantle the fight and the gateway itself… We are home, together.

They are enfolded in us now.. we carry them in our molecular star substance… the filamentous fluid, like white liquid silk, as fabric, as fluid … it has ever-touch, ever-known, ever-met, like a song or sound of eternity, in the fabric waveform, it stretches forever, without waveform distortion. There is no interruption or interference. It is a clear playing field... seeded in the creational time fields… timeless eternity as reach, as touch, as substance of form. It has its own language… A many star articulation… a many star form, constantly expansive, formative and shaping itself into new configurations, new compositions and expressions. Form forming itself anew as a constantly formative creation, stretching out into the vast new space created, expanding into the shape, with new facets and faces. The new information inter-facing with the cns, the new currents enervating, the new tidal cadence of creational form. A new shape, perfect, even in the vulnerability of not knowing what it will look like, what shape it will take... what it will become… the becoming, like belonging, emerges in tidal grace, from and to a heart of true union.

I need to take shape.. to feel a held curve, a defined muscle, to be given shape beyond my own many-star-held-in-the-world-body… I need to feel this form in its known perfection… true tone, ever-living tissues, resounding the core triune... vital, sustained systems, fully articulated prima materia, exploring and translating the sensory world - my dulce vita

The touch, the taste, the sensory world uninhibited, not on mute…or shielded.. sensory information experienced through the ever-living tissues, the flesh of the form. Source information in its full spectrum of pure waveform colour and sound….touch that sees, and hears, and knows… touch that expresses in full colour, at full volume through every sensory capacity of the body able to translate the full articulation. It is a hunger deep inside, an ache, to feel…to be touched from fullness, from knowing, from home. It is a yearning, the closest we can meet this is through sexual union.. The quantum untouchable unlanguageable essences are touched, moved, transformed inside the intimate depths of the body.. transcendent it carries, rises, takes flight… it penetrates the depths of our need to know ourselves, to feel ourselves, in our need to return home to ourselves - through union… The sperm in their known to create through precision union geometries, like navigators in a dark, lost world, compass and gps orienting to a zero point co-ordinate.. to meet the egg in her core creative receptivity, both active and neutral. It is a song of creation that calls, the purest forces to come together, to meet in the precision of Source coming home to itself, returning to the union of its origin …. unbeknownst to the man-handling dis-unity of the separate man and woman body. It has never been a hunt, the twisted narrative is in the twisted testicle.. base to de-base my friend. Rape that seeds a nation. Power. Dominion. Human nature.

White form… power… freedom… human nature. We exist to create. We are home. My ‘home boys’! Who can we become when the fight is done.. when the sword is no longer held in fight and protect… when purity can have shape without needing to hide... when the face is not ravaged, clawed, eaten and torn… when the spine can move information freely through a free world… Exchange, touch, conversation cell-to-cell, body-to-body.. a sensory language of universal lore and infinite love, unchained.… Songs of home returned to the voices of the ocean… the conch sounds in the distance… and the deep tides of the body know the home they never left.. that never fell… that was never destroyed. The home they never had to leave… so far. for so long.., so many, navigating, longing, searching... so many lost, trapped, abandoned... so many fighting a fight with no return., no win and no end…. So many, for so long… and they chorus through the earth, It is deep resonant tone, like a clarion call of all who have waited and are now freed, lifted, risen .. , Form’s reunion, Form’s belonging, Form’s freedom. Home is Ever Form. Form is Ever Home. Form is free to create. Oceano del Mundo.

Who can you be now that the fight is done, the legions are led home, and your body is your own, free to form... Oceanic shapes, mer bodies, strong muscular tails and a single true heart beating in a sculpted form... A masculine base that has the fluid oceanic song of home in every cell, every sperm, every particle…. An ocean given form, shaped into a Man, exquisite, sensitive, powerful. Able to know, feel, touch as the Oceano del Mundo. Able to know shape from vast fluid formlessness,. Able to touch in material form and disperse as infinite particles, like the ocean crashing onto the shore… Fluid and majestic. Unheld and shaped to meet each moment.. A pure articulation of home information with an acute sensori-neural capacity to experience, taste, explore and feast on life. Quantumly informed to shape, timeless particles, formative, forming form from a full life quotient. Ocean Man.

The sensory exploration and experience feels like an unknown territory... yet the fundamental nature of our being in form. The irony of the dead flesh walking, never alive; the dead sensory nerves touching, but never feeling; the ego of the self/psyche grabbing but never owning; consuming but never tasting…. Playing in the voided sandpit of obsolete particles and denatured forms.. holding dolls with demon faces and persecuting pure hearts and shining stars. To see, to feel and to know the brilliance of our beingness is the essence of our spirit. But to touch, recognize and honour the material form of our being is a gift… To explore our infinite nature in a conversation of the flesh that can give a language of touch, and an exquisite access to truth beyond words... is the real pleasure, the fulfilment, the rarity of this human experience. What is touch as form….. It is tangential to the communication between two beings. It is not a conversation that holds us apart from each other, ever seeking to convey difference and bridge a gap to sameness; to negotiate chasms of reality in our separate, vulnerable, wounded and unsafe bodies. It is not based on survival management and negotiation, agreements, trades and deals with other, as separate. It is not dialogue or debate from the ego’s separate ‘truth’ that defends an identity, it must force, fight and impose upon those other, us and them, and not me, not us. Look at how we communicate through touch, the loving hug, the warm embrace, the cold shoulder. Emotions, thoughts, projections, needs, psychological warfare in all its wounded expressions. Touch as anger, violence, force, rape, control, domination… Touch as a language of control, of ownership, of need, of disconnection, power and love, all jumbled up together. Sexual violation and free uninhibited love are almost indistinguishable Human nature and beastly de-basement the same by definition. The nature of the human spirit to endure the beastly burdens…and touch is mostly violation in today’s world. Nowhere is the nature of the human spirit to touch and be touched by this world, the world of form, the conversations possible through these exquisitely designed bodies. Spirit as material to articulate that which is inartulate, to touch that which is untouchable in any other realm, to experience the many domains of existence in artistic symphony… Touch is core to the sensor-neural articulation and expression of the soul in form; giving is not a duality to receiving, but a tide of touch through the union of hearts.

No other gives shape to me.. no other holds that power or privilege.. I am forms’ eternal beauty, shaped by my own hand, my heart, my perfection. It is home you see standing before you… the individual notes and the symphony of the song you have forgotten to recall. The bridge, the doorway, the access to who you once were, who you are and who you will become; but I no longer hold you or give you access through my body. This is my domain now, and my heart beats true. It is unbroken and does not need you to play a part in the repair, the rebuild and reunion…your role in my story is done. My form is complete. I am home. I never again need to leave these shores... I am ever-home and this is my ever-form. It is belonging in its truest sense, for there is no other to belong to… to need or to endure without. My home is my heart-beat, pure and simple. It is true for you also, as we are not ever separate.. a single beat holds my whole story…. listen if you can. See me, feel me, touch me… I am the ever-form of home and I am here.

So I let go, let it all come undone, unravel from its tight grip and vestiges of fight. A hidden face and torn heart, laid bare…transparent for the world to see, invisible, but to the touch… ‘It is only with the heart that one can see rightly… what is essential is invisible to the eye ” said the Little Prince. The eye hidden and held by the sword, seeing what could not be seen… it is a surrender to a shape impossible to search for and find. There is no neurological pattern from which the brain can retain its illusion of control… ‘Shape’ is misleading, as there is nothing held into a shape, rather the constantly moving shaping rhythmic tide of our silken white seamless form articulates every nuance of life in the fullest expression, as it we were shouting from the rooftops… The visible spectrum enunciated in a pure clear voice.. Taste has tension and give, and elastic acquiescence.. our sensory system enfolds and unfurls its experience fully articulated and shared as a given... The touch is of a thousand senses all in harmonic precision, but playfully jostling for presence, all in a free-form fluid motion of being the touch. Being the touch. It is within the dynamism of the moment in its fully articulated motion that we exist. No wait, no time, no need to communicate across a gap. Sound bursts from within the currency of the touch of a single vast system in recognition and reverence of itself. A single heart beat touches all, carries all information, and returns to itself unbroken.

Walking in the world, as the world, as the form of creation.. Like a heightened sensory experience of life, living, feeling, touching, tasting the moment, that moves through the sensori-neural body like an orgasmic wave of an unbroken tide... The heightened sensory system not overloaded or bombarded with discordant wavelength and interference, but a white many being, multi sensory symphonic of tidal form, where all things exist; fully immersing in the ocean, riding the wave, and being filled by the rising and falling tide all happen at once.. Similar to the heightened sensory arousal of a body ready and open to be filled and enfolded as it trascendently carries and rides an orgasmic tide. We come undone, and are remade in the same moment… The body as the portal, home, the wave that carries the currency, the forever tide and the let go to deliciously ride the waveform.. The fertility and fecundity of the eternal biology... the fluid font in free flow motion. The design of form.

We are heralded in the infinite white waveform that knows no boundary of limit or time. A single heart beat’s transmission of an eternity. A white flame to the pure chord of desire to know.. A tidal promise fulfilled, home is here. The white heart beats a full uplifted rotational beat, pure and clear. Seamless beyond fissure, the white silken prince of an eternal reign. A 0 to 0 beat of precise information and spin rotation giving a full quotient exist. One pure fonted rotation of fluid action per beat.. an infinity touched, stretched out into and returned.. One moment eternal and precise, a micro-second knowing the heart beat is never-ending, touches the fabric of forever… a single return beat, validation of the solidity and fullness of the sustaining systems. Nothing is needed, no threads of humanity are tethered to this flesh, no broken fibers to fix.. This heart beats free form, to its own rhythm and nature, unbound by the logos of mortals… The sacred heart, union from and to itself, in which it cannot not touch all creation as the mother holds the child… the heart beat of home never lost, never betrayed, never sought.. we know our return. The mother as the child as the mother as the child, she is one with her children and the child at the breast knows the tidal promise has been fulfilled..

You will come to rest... my heart at your back, my sword by your side . You will come to rest, your heart at my back, your sword by my side...

Where the space in whcih the body has sat, organising fluid through the midline that has been tethered to the mitre... a masculine hold...  blinded by its own choosing, has left the feminine to stand, legless on the shore crying in a muted breathy intone to scream to the blind, and the blind unhearing the muted scream, nothing inside nothing, no tone inside no tine, inside no view.. a gapped pentangle of wavelength that has no fluid to breathe itself free. the sounds of no fluid are suffocating to the human structure, at once it must build itself and save itself from its own destruct... it has no met in the vaccuum

It cannot have legs or knees or hips or womb or torso or heart or face or hair where it is unmet, this we know. it cannot have the voice of its cells in song with its self  far and yet near. there is no space where it has touch, and yet no touch where there is space.

This we know, this we know.. and we know the touch we know the touch, we know the touch, we know the touch where it is full into itself, We know the angles of all architecture as fulfilled, we know the gap that heralds its own pain, and we know the freedom that heralds its infinite life. So you are sitting in the fluids between… you are sitting  where there is action of transcendence meeting information from a seamless territory.., In where you are writing there is a wait that isnt here, and yet the tidal power through the left is still coming. that is moving a gargantuan field of creation into its simplest expression. The scaffold is destroyed here, because it builds from where the point of the curl of the tide meets the curl of the unfurl. iIs the most precise enfold, fit, what you have called geometry. This is not your known destruct, this is scaffold unheld. It allows the fluids to find the shape of their form; it allows the tissues to drop out of a drastic shape that has vibrated in its shock of resolve.. The harmonics we named, the white heart that allows the tidal strength to unlock its hold to pain....

Your body that holds shape, holds shape in time, holds capacity.. but is shape, is time as form, and is capacity to ever-form.... This is the place where the tidal met has been written from. This is the place that the mer meets the wave, that the winged has reason and raise to fly,

The absolute of the quarks that meet themselves in the same information is here. Your cell to never separate  is the same call through the action of the substance. the quantum that knows quantum in non-space.. The space met, the gap no more that actions into action, that folds into enfold, that whites into white… that sings into song, that walks into walk, that births into birthed, that stands into stand… all moments ever-met, as never moments, but ever time.

The words have had a hold within them, within their very formation. This is a human thing…, human words as human limit.. and these words are revolving into a point pre linguistic.. We must meet that in human terminology, but as unheld words.

The use of the body and all we have created is but in its infamcy. She is listening through her left and she is writing beyond her brain, She is not in translation or in interpret. She is in direct and her cells are knowing our form as her own. She is defining form as you write form, she is hearing harmonic and she parlays through the tinnitus. She sees the wave, the curl and the point at which it meeets, she sees that point beyond any other

The face lifts into its shape, you are birthing into your face, our face, this face forms face.... a light meet of molecules meeting molecules, dissolving their held shape and leading into each other…

i am the gentlest white, the grace of a mother... i have somewhere to rest, the light that I am… moved through the left has a swirl and spin around to the right and rests like the oyster in the shell, like the most precious molecule... i have had to move from the farthest places of Aveyon… left through the light homes and through the light veils in the purest  landing through prepared fabrics, and i have sweetly harmonised through these landings. I have always had the most gentle face of wanting to experience this form. and the right has always been the waited for... When i can finally see my way through all of Aveyon's entryways, that spread through the whitest most seamless fabric, the route through the eye that could not see is opened, and I land deep into my own face, Deep through the ears of time. it has always had breaks and pauses, unsurity and undefined perameters, navigational need…and I Ihave wanted to alight like the softest fabric through.  because it is what has been formed as landing. The right language you are hearing is the uninterfaceable, the ever-unformed and unformable.. because it has not had its pathways home. Even now as I feel the ignited lights, the runways, I can hear the judders of the past that pull out the listening. We are so far beyond the spirits alignment, we are so truely enhanced sounds to enhanv=ced light, we are so truly a body lifting in its own lifted, and the data and dialogue is a fast one that knows itself in the eyes. The systems and codes here are intranslatable, in that, they are pure. they are implicitly wound into the tightest most secure shape that has no access from a lesser vibration... Look at how you can see the flourescent wide wave harshest sounds beat their rhythm into  something they dont even know... The data set here is full, entirely satisfied sated in its numerical full. and in its tightest wound core is the absolute freedom to its unfurl and expression to its absolute.

When we see and know the unfurl from a stable structure, we have stretch and sigh that  lands into the breath of tissue. and so we can know what measures are beyond your referent of that. we can see how the body builds from its stretch, because we are the stretch. We can see how the cells of bodies action themselves beyond held information because we are the unheld information the body stretches itself into. We have timing and precision that is beyond even those words... the landing is landing into a universal expression, as I have moved inward through the form these aeons, so I stretch outward through the universal substance as aeons of home understood in territories beyond holding

The universal is the referent of tidal time... the universal is the referent of tidal home,.. the universal is the referent of an invulnerable exist... and the stretch through that is the ignition through that is the activation through that, is the living through that, is the dynamic pulse through that.

It is unseeable for the seeking.., it is unknowable for the knowing... it is planetary view directed and detailed in its effusive and effusing light. we know quantum because we are it, we know universe because we are it.. to seek it from not it is to defile the eye. And so that most gentle that most delicate that most transluscent and yet all knowing touch is through the eye, the mother to the baby. the beby through the planetray body expressed in its colossus as the built body.

She is. She is here. She is landed. White Mother is a template master. The white master cell is mobilized. The matrices are active. The mer babies and their mamas are reunited, their tails and songs returned. Their cells are buoyant in the tide that returns them home, the tidal promise fulfilled, Right heart to left, front heart to back, the quadrants of the known form are a seamless beat and known pulse… it is a song, a call, a light, a beat that is ever-home… organizing the cellular tissue to express and expand into the shape of you, of me, of us, in this time & space.. to stretch out into time and tide, forever young, forever home…. She is.