Realm 3

Manipura Text

Manipura

This realm is Artha, meaning all those who enter come to find their purest sense, goal, purpose or essence depending on the context of their health and advantage. There are many activities and resources here to help enable a proprietary state. You will find your closest friends, pets and an environment that promotes correct strength and well-being. In this realm, religion does not exist. It was determined in 2020 to be a complacent form of currency and it has been replaced with essential forms of thought and listening.

What are you going to offer in Manipura?

12 – The Story

Daisy finally returned from Being. The train ride was the same old Opportunity – benign and forgiveness. Either way, she got what she was looking for, a daisy yellow briefcase containing several shards of teal blue wisps and something else she was planning on using at the brief. Daisy got off the train, gathered her things – a brown leather lawyer bag, candies from Chon (scented like pastel pasties) and the most important thing, a blue ty bear wearing a velour ribbon which was actually made of rare DNA. She forgot to say her sister was dead. She wasn’t involved in the murder, but she knew it happened. Starved, she headed to the only standing Canadian burger shack left in Heaven. It was called Burger Heaven and she knew, they now carried special milkshakes that assisted with technological diseases like Common Place. As soon as she arrived, she messaged her best friend (other best friend) Fe. Fe was currently running Manipura and she knew they would have a great dinner together, talking about heros. She flipped open the menu and could not believe what she saw. The whole room changed colour and suddenly everything was white and black. The waitress cunningly interrupted, but it wasn’t the usual gal, it was Shady! Daisy was confused. What the heck was a frog – part of a frog at that – doing waitressing? He slipped his cartilage hands into the opening of his apron and pulled out a knife. “You’ve made it just in time Daisy lady. Is there something I can bring you?” She shot back, completely confident, “Is there something you have for me?”

Yellow Briefcase

11 – The Virus or the Conundrum of Space

Daisy opened up her laptop and began to write. She had been assigned to design a letter speaking about the War of 2019. She’ll be presenting for TED and all of Elevententeen’s pupils will be there. The tribune, was postponed. Something to do with a new diagnosis? Alas, Daisy was excited because this presentation could signal the end of her journey. She went back to work, feeling a rush to write.

The letter began:

Today, technology halts outcome. Who hears it first, becomes a pause in our brains, allowing the alive space of digitization to enter. The first visual comment has us running to our beds/desktops eager for a reward and multiple likes once separated by peace.

This war has created emotions that we used to disregard. And now, these emotions come flooding back, just in time for Christmas. Let’s think about this season for a change.

Is it worse because we have to evaluate goodness?

Is it best because it allows us moments to prove hard workmanship?

Are we hungry for mashed potatoes or are we actually craving compassion?

Are we feeling warm and cozy or are we actually dreading waking up for a moment?

And so I say to you. Post apocalypse. When they come (feelings of despair) or when they change (frivolous concerns), ensure you are perceiving the right way.

This new time will become a newly renewed love affair. Not between partners, but among trees. Amidst technology. For the planet and for business sustainability.

Returning back to the matter at hand. We have learned that our perception does not come from the inherence of the season itself, but from the attachments our society has formed to recognize its presence. We all recognized the burden of things changed. We accept the new leaves, yet we loathe the alive routine. But it is these routines, which are difficult to many, that will become your impartiality. You can still take the winter jackets out of storage, battle multiple colds and even welcome the re-release of horrifyingly humorous memories.

Daisy paused for a banana split second. She had a ham and cheese omelette on her mind.

She continued – 

My friends. I continually battle with the idea that the world around me dictates my capabilities, my depth of understanding, my skills and my knowledge. This is now false, because outcomes can be deciphered. Deja Vu? From different realms. An awakening? Of old Mother Earth. We imbue a desire to communicate, engage, then we activate our chosen device (could be true thought; could be a rejected memory) and begin to receive the message. This is only 1-way communication, there is also 2. So, at what point is the message one hundred percent real? At what point does it impact veritable change? Is 100% still an appropriate measurement? It may be difficult for you all to tell; there could be billions of individual entities engaging right now and the true game is just beginning.

When you feel lost, think about this:

In reality, old or new, love is complex.

It is a system that involves desire, admittance and in this new age, food.

Albeit an old program, arguably ineffective, but still around.

You may believe you are choosing select items, however in this new age of openness, we are all objects suddenly classifying subject. Making decisions which impact our shopping mechanisms, for instance.

How does that make you feel?

How much will it cost (mentally, figuratively, physically, emotionally, spiritually) to participate?

Who is managing currency and why? Who has the rights to money now?

We don’t want the feeling of our worth in the process of these changes to become falsified. We don’t want our worth to be based on illogical desires/demands which our current culture and societal sub-text had us dreaming of. Portraying these literal imaginings (still), however we should not be involved in that feeling. The past or the image has not necessarily inspired greater Being, but more questioning, more travel further beyond the limits of time. Quantum leaping. The cost to be involved is altering our own sense of currency, so that we can belong and feel rich and fulfilled.

The intention of my letter to you today is to say – there is a greater meaning behind our technological (new) interactions. Our role as humans is to comprehend our ability to evolve into new forms, including an innate, superior form of Being classified under AI. This form rejects nature, but only at first as part of its complicated introduction (compliance). I don’t want to say initiation, but it sort of reverts to this, because people so fervently reject new shapes of change, if they do not fit any previous mould.

And so, our Technologists and Artists will go about creating super logical systems that will facilitate transformation. They will implement the strategies of our highly evolved grey matter from planet Earth. The ultimate gestation involves our ability to balance decision-making processes from both sides (human and digital human) and predicting outcomes as products of a specific user experience, not conceptual volition or trend. At the end of the day, if I were to meet you in person, would you truthfully portray truth and empathy? Stand up, because we need to get going, move out butts out of our seats! We need to understand this new heat, before it evaporates into thick air.

Folks, this is the end of Digital Warfare.

Daisy stops. Satisfied. She liked what she wrote. She always did. She capped her yellow inked pen and closed the notebook containing every unknown element to Elevententeen’s reckoning. If she was going to be a part of this mass destruction, she was going to lead it. There was no question. 

 

 

 

Sabrina

Our continuation of #girlstories…

The epiphany rang.

There was an evil sinister coming to Elevententeen.

Do you have plans yet_.png

Sabrina sat up from her seat and left her lunch in the mist. She was mentally picturing her fuzzy, white sweater getting soaked from the rain and it made her livid. She was too embarrassed to adjust, people were observing. She trudged through, carrying a green umbrella.

Carrying books in a used plastic bag, she walked to her class. Virtuoso would be there. Her heart skipped a beat knowing that he would test her classically trained ear. He didn’t know she lost the ability. For this exam, she would pretend; she could not hear a thing.

Only black. Sabrina quickly glanced at her feet to see where she was, her red rain boots covered in dew drops. Then, she coughed and tiny gray particles with lavender pieces came shooting out of her mouth. She coughed again and the door opened.

She couldn’t hold onto her books anymore. They dropped down the silver lining. Her arms struggled to reach for something, anything to stop her from slipping. There were branches sticking out on each side of her, then suddenly she remembered.

She was Alice and Sabrina was the nightmare.

10 years ago.

She didn’t want to see it, she squeezed her eyes shut to ignore what was going to happen next. No, no, no! She cried, just leave me alone! Don’t let this happen, loyal judge, I will bring you the falcon! But whomever she was speaking to didn’t care. She looked down and could see her legs changing into wide tree trunks, covered with green frost and violet branches. She looked at her hands and they too were made of wood. The apple from her lunch pack floated in a thick orange residue, and she reached for it, but it just turned into mush with a face, laughing. Oh shit, this is it. The sounds around her went bleep.

Finally, kerplunk.

Sabrina landed on soft ground. It was ridiculous that a tree could wear a blue dress. Still, she patted down her pinafore and retied a green bow. Judge? She searched. Her crispy hands aimed for her head. She ducked down as she knew she wouldn’t be able to prune her braids. The ground became solid with tiny, little versions of signs propping up, one by one, all over the place. Everywhere was now everything.

She wore a black hat and had red-rimmed eyeglasses.

alice. (2)

She wore a purple jacket with dirt under her nail beds.

judge.

It was over.

They played a game to determine their next meal. They didn’t want to eat. They wanted to get out of here. A sinister laugh bellowed from the fog’s bounds and they knew Judge Judy was prepared. Prepared to assign Sabrina with her next task. Prepared to evaluate the worth of Alice’s size, since she was just going to be used at the tribune. And throughout the entire evaluation, neither girl could sit still.

What would become of Sabrina’s jacket?

 

 

10 – The Final End

So, who do we got here? Filburt quipped – Stan’s over there. Shady from S and L pronounced, I seen Cherry standing to the right with her sister. So, who else is missing? Um, I think Seventeen and Each Other were caught making out in their cache car. Cache car? Yeah. Like you know. Invisible transportation to Life Space. And who’s leaving Life Space right now? A Tree. And I saw A Day go to. Okay, well…we are close to arranging the final tribune.

We were that close.

“He came in and interrupted me!”

“Ya so. Why didn’t you just tell him to leave?”

Daisy was walking down the sidewalk. Again. It was raining. The weather never changed here. It was consistently blue-gray and purple. Wet and bleak. The sunshine rays were hidden by Indigo; the pupils of Elevententeen did not deserve Paradise Colours.

We were that.

“Filburt, can you please pass me my tea?”

“Ya sure. Here you go, do you have enough cream?”

Daisy’s milk was a nice colour of baby lime chartreuse. She didn’t even want to stir it, because then it would change into something orange and forceful. She was deciding on a Dream for the day, to carry with her in the front pocket of her Levi’s. She had another note in there from Baby Bear, who was said to be related to Seventeen and Other of Each Other. The wall at the Nike outlet now included various options for Dreams in colours ranging from green to teal to yellow. Unfortunately, that was the only colour palette available, because the others were worth too much due to their high wavelength interval. “Man, I miss orange! This blue just won’t do!”, Daisy exclaimed as she clearly had too much of a muddled mind frame to understand the meaning of that statement today.

Okay, okay, so back to The Tree. His name was Paul and instead of having a bright orange-red beard, his was blue inserted with tiny, little firs which themselves housed tiny, little owls. He was out hunting between the three primary states and had business to do across all of them. Life Space was his first stop. He was looking for Alice and her dreadful creations from God. Then, it was onto Chon where he could take a break. Eat a cherry scone and perhaps accompany it with a hot drink of lemonade. And final resting place – Elevententeen. He was supposed to bring back some girl named Daisy. Apparently, she held a key to something. His bosses were still trying to figure it out.

We were.

“In about 5 minutes, I am going to explode!”

“Let it happen, man. Things don’t get better than that.”

I’ve got to walk faster now. Where the fuck did I go? Daisy picked up her pace, the sound of her soles squeaking becoming more intense. Finally, she arrived. She looked up and read the sign – Judge Judy. It was an imposing wooden structure that looked distorted when you peered up towards the roof. She was analyzing it a little bit, because it wasn’t from here. She could tell, its proportions were all wrong and the perspective of its facade was vibrating like a green on red channel. She actually wasn’t sure now if she should enter. But before she could decide further, the gigantic brass door opened and a dark, teal gray smoke began to generate from the bottom slants.

We.

“Pssst. Come in this way. I’ll leave the door open for you.”

Daisy knew who that was. It was darn Alice! How did she get in here? She knew better that Paul and Jared were looking for her. Her heart rate grew and it was becoming one of those distant Dreamsicles. She didn’t want any more of it. She was beginning to lose her originality and she wouldn’t be able to pick up a new set from Linz anytime soon. Daisy was heartbroken.

“If I can just get my mind past the pretense of it all, I might be able to recall something worthwhile.”

“You won’t do it. You don’t have the balls.”

The judge tore a sheet of paper out of her book and it made a long and terribly loud hissing sound – pppssssssssssssssssssssssssss! Was that really necessary, asked Alice. Judy replied with a hiss of her own, yes, yes it was. Daisy has come. Now what are we supposed to say? She will notice the difference. She can tell that we’re lying.

Daisy turned a sharp corner and again, cranked her neck upwards to preview the alarmingly high walls. Somewhere up top, there was a ceiling. It was all written in code. She wanted to read it so bad, but she slipped on the onyx glass floor, fumbling her belongings, of which a bright, green granny smith apple came flying out of her purse. Filburt ran ahead to catch it. Ugh, why are we even here, Daisy thought. Filburt answered her in his mind – Daisy, we are here because you are supposed to be here. We are trying to find the reason for Being. And, we need to present our findings to the tribune by December!

Alice sat affirmatively on a cushy yellow Dream. She took a bite and sighed. Judy followed by adjusting her large bottom on an orange one. They both sat in silence, chewing their gum.

On the left side wall, as soon as she turned the corner, Daisy saw two prints framed in gilded gold. One said Life, the other said Free. She wondered if she was supposed to be doing something with them. She tried lifting the frames off the wall, but they were drilled to it with solid steel jelly beans. Those things don’t move. She then placed her hand on their screens. The words flashed in different colours, but nothing else happened. Out of nowhere, two flashy young men appeared. She knew instantly who they were. It was The Need and The Pause. Chasing after her, of course.

The Writing she was doing was combining with Training. This was not supposed to happen. She was going to be in a lot of trouble. She just knew it. As an artist, she works. As a specialist, she writes. Ugh, this was not going to help her at the tribune. Just then, a booming voice entered the space, “Alice! Come forth to room 1!”

Daisy, she meant.

And that was that. She took off as fast as she could, carefully watching her step on the slippery glass stage. Blinking, Daisy looked around. “Class! It’s glass! Please pay attention!” Her forehead wrinkled. Again, she thought. When was it going to end? When was it the final end? “But today, my dear. Were you sleeping again?” Her teacher prompted as she handed her an exam. “Write this first. Then, we will determine what’s next.” Daisy shrugged. She had no choice anyway. So, she might as well participate. She squinted. At the corner of her eye, she saw them. She whipped her head around to see. But nothing. Just two barren doors. Totally uninteresting. Not brass even. She could have swore Tom Need and Tim Pause were there. Was she still asleep?