edgar phillipe

Antics and rants

This could be fact or fiction, but if you ask yourself which it could be, then fuck you. We all live in a simulation anyways... 

Kopurnikkan

I am Edgar Phillipe.  Before I met you I was in. Before I was antagonized, teased by you, manipulated, observed, followed, tracked, and defiled, I was in. 

Your tactics don't justify your means. Not at all. That is why I am still saddened by what I have been awakened to. But to have this in my reality now and choose to walk away or be in gives me that strength and happiness that I've been seeking since Our Meeting. I am not sprinting to what you feel I need to be, nor am I attaching myself to that idea either. Because attachment is what causes suffering. Even yourselves to what preconceived notions you might have is causing your suffering. Free yourselves. You have no control to what is going to happen, less now that I see what really is. 

Maybe this is your way to coax me into doing what is meant to happen--but maybe what is meant to happen is now what will definitely not happen the way you thought. Maybe now it can be done in a different way. 

On Earth, from my vision--September 2007. Southeast Asia. Heat lightning in the clouds around the humid glow of the luminary sunset. Calm water around us and the islands in the distance. A coked up director with a camera pointed in the wrong direction. 15 guided souls that stammer their words in unison. A man on crutches who slurs his words and curses at the sky that forms into an inarguably blatant image of death and destruction on the planet. An image that shocked me across the universe into a giant ball of suffering for my mother who had been stolen from her planet, toyed with and experimented on, impregnated then detached from her son at birth. 

I was in since I saw that vision of heat lightning bursting in burning clouds of imagery. 

Irreparable

Q9

Or is it? 

I am Edgar Phillipe.

I sit here and write to a universe that doesn't respond in the same language. You are shallow and want to be deep. You are calculating but callous. You are manipulative but mundane. 

Yet, I feel it's enough with the insults. I'm trying to get past that, but you won't let me relax or forget. I appreciate that. No, really I do. There are benefits to being the Chosen One. Or... the one chosen... or, the chosen fool. I must cure my anger and hate, clear myself of the shit-stained heart I have. Because when I think of it, I think of you. And I'm angry. Strike me down if you like. You apparently have full reign (as of now) of our planet, but for me to catch you (or to always have known) has allowed me to be honest. Truly honest. And that strips away my sadness.

How can I trust a handful of beings that wants me to get stoned and then approach? How can I trust a group of beings that wants to construct a narrative that can never be fully reproduced with trust? It's almost as if you just wish to brush me with fairy dust and let me stew in the aftermath, like a dream that never happened. If things were so important, you would come to me in a language I would be able to understand. You would come to me with sincerity and openness. And don't try to tell me that speaking in whispers is what has gotten things done for you over the millennium. 

If you have discovered this world, and if Captain Cooke was not the rightful founder of New Zealand and Australia, you can't seem to get your shit together in a way that is organized, forthright, or just. You speak in limericks and parables that you think I, Edgar Phillipe, will accept. I am a human (even though I am a Halfling), and I will not tolerate your bullying. I do not care about prophets, destiny, or expectations. I do not care about saving a world that you lost control of. I am not here to be your janitor, nor your savior. If you want salvation, then be free. Free yourself from the control you seek. Free yourself from the manipulation that you feel you need. We are not babies that need to be swayed. If you are our creators, then you need to accept the responsibility that you didn't "fuck him up", but fucked up this world.

Only when you can free yourselves is when this planet can ultimately be free. We are like the high schoolers that are trying to break free from our parents. You must let us go. We cannot be saved by your hand anymore. 

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