A brief passage in human Timing

Harassée d’informations et de network, sous le joug d’une survivance orchestrée, l’humanité est en train de perdre tout contact avec sa mystique. Les codes universelles sombrent peu à peu sous les eaux troubles des croyances matérialistes.
Les quêtes de l’éternel se joue sur l’échiquier mondiale de la finance spéculative où l’or noir remplace désormais la foi.
Et l’homme sage meurt.

Il faisait sombre lorsque je pris mon premier trip. Personne autour de moi. Seul mon ami me veillait. La monté fut vertigineuse, presque brutale. Ce qui m’entourait calmement se mis à s’agiter de soubresauts erratique. Mon sang lui-même devenait vertigineux. Je le sentais en moi affluer en longues tornades spiroïdales. Mon corps s’affaissait à mesure que mon esprit s’envolait vers….

L’homme sage se meurt car il ne trouve plus matière à sa sagesse. Le rythme trépident des machines outils automatisées crépitent en lui comme la guerre jadis, ravageait les territoires lointains. Pourtant, l’homme sage sait. Et plus que jamais, l’humanité fut en situation de manquer de savoir. Savoir ancestral de l’équilibre des forces qui maintiennent l’équilibre global. Plus que jamais, l’homme devrait se retourner vers son sacré, vers sa dimension extra-humaine, pour y retrouver sa véritable essence.
Et l’homme moderne meurt.

Ce fut une fusion. Une fusion avec le tout. Indescriptible savoir que je traversais, émerveillé par la cohérente beauté de la logique universelle à l’état pure.

T.O.U.T.. E.T.A.I.T.. A.. S.A..P.L.A.C.E.

Et même moi, petit engin spatial au cœur de l’infini, je me mouvais avec la grâce de l’innocence.
Et lorsque j’en revins. Lorsque ce voyage s’acheva. Tout se qu’il m’en resta fut….
Un sourire.

Exhausted from information and of network, under the yoke of an orchestrated survival, humanity is losing any contact with its mystic. The universal codes sink little by little under turbid water of the materialist beliefs.
The searches of the eternal is played on the world affairs’ scene of speculative finance where the black gold replaces from now on the faith.
And the wise man dies.

It was was dark when I taken my first trip. Nobody around me. Only my friend took care me. Gone up was vertiginous, almost brutal. What surrounded me calmly put to be agitated suddenly by erratic starts. My blood itself became vertiginous. I felt it in me to flow in long spiroid tornadoes. My body subsided as my spirit flew away towards….

The wise man dies because it does not find any more matter with its wisdom. The rate/rhythm vibrate of the automated machine tools rattle in him like the war formerly devastated far territories. However, the wise man knows. And more than ever, humanity is in situation to miss knowing. Ancestral knowledge about the balance of forces which maintain the global balance. More than ever, the man should turned over towards its sacred, towards his extra-human dimension, to find his genuine essence there.
And the modern man dies.

It was a fusion. A fusion with the whole. Indescribable knowledge that I crossed, filled with wonder by the coherent beauty at universal logic to the state pure.

E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G..W.A.S..A.T..I.T.S..R.I.G.H.T..P.L.A.C.E

And even me, small space engine in the middle of infinite, I was driven with the grace of innocence.
And when I returned from there. When this voyage was completed. All that it me remained about it was….
A smile.

FRAGMENT OF OCEAN

Experimental pictures by Jeffe

RE-EVOLUTION

Re-Evolution
by Terence McKenna









If the truth can be told so as to be understood, it will be believed.

Human history represents such a radical break with the natural systems of biological organization that preceded it, that it must be the response to a kind of attractor, or dwell point that lies ahead in the temporal dimension. Persistently Western religions have integrated into their theologies the notion of a kind of end of the world, and I think that a lot of psychedelic experimentation sort of confirms this intuition, I mean, it isn't going to happen according to any of the scenarios of orthodox religion, but the basic intuition, that the universe seeks closure in a kind of omega point of transcendance, is confirmed, it's almost as though this object in hyperspace, glittering in hyperspace, throws off reflections of itself, which actually ricochet into the past, illuminating this mystic, inspiring that saint or visionary, and that out of these fragmentary glimpses of eternity we can build a kind of map, of not only the past of the universe, and the evolutionary egression into novelty, but a kind of map of the future, this is what shamanism is always been about, a shaman is someone who has been to the end, it's someone who knows how the world really works, and knowing how the world really works means to have risen outside, above, beyond the dimensions of ordinary space, time, and casuistry, and actually seen the wiring under the board, stepped outside the confines of learned culture and learned and embedded language, into the domain of what Wittgenstein called "the unspeakable," the transcendental presense of the other, which can be absanctioned, in various ways, to yield systems of knowledge which can be brought back into ordinary social space for the good of the community, so in the context of ninety percent of human culture, the shaman has been the agent of evolution, because the shaman learns the techniques to go between ordinary reality and the domain of the ideas, this higher dimensional continuum that is somehow parallel to us, available to us, and yet ordinarily occluded by cultural convention out of fear of the mystery I believe, and what shamans are, I believe, are people who have been able to de-condition themselves from the community's instinctual distrust of the mystery, and to go into it, to go into this bewildering higher dimension, and gain knowledge, recover the jewel lost at the beginning of time, to save souls, cure, commune with the ancestors and so forth and so on. Shamanism is not a religion, it's a set of techniques, and the principal technique is the use of psychedelic plants. What psychedelics do is they dissolve boundaries, and in the presence of dissolved boundaries, one cannot continue to close one's eyes to the ruination of the earth, the poisoning of the seas, and the consequences of two thousand years of unchallenged dominator culture, based on monotheism, hatred of nature, suppression of the female, and so forth and so on. So, what shamans have to do is act as exemplars, by making this cosmic journey to the domain of the Gaian ideas, and then bringing them back in the form of art to the struggle to save the world. The planet has a kind of intelligence, that it can actually open a channel of communication with an individual human being. The message that nature sends is, transform your language through a synergy between electronic culture and the psychedelic imagination, a synergy between dance and idea, a synergy between understanding and intuition, and dissolve the boundaries that your culture has sanctioned between you, to become part of this Gaian supermind, I mean I think it's fairly profound, it's fairly apocalyptic. History is ending. I mean, we are to be the generation that witnesses the revelation of the purpose of the cosmos. History is the shock wave of the eschaton. History is the shock wave of eschatology, and what this means for those of us who will live through this transition into hyperspace, is that we will be privileged to see the greatest release of compressed change probably since the birth of the universe. The twentieth century is the shudder that announces the approaching cataracts of time over which our species and the destiny of this planet is about to be swept.

If the truth can be told so as to be understood, it will be believed.

The emphasis in house music and rave culture on physiologically compatible rhythms and this sort of thing is really the rediscovery of the art of natural magic with sound, that sound, properly understood, especially percussive sound, can actually change neurological states, and large groups of people getting together in the presence of this kind of music are creating a telepathic community of bonding that hopefully will be strong enough that it can carry the vision out into the mainstream of society. I think that the youth culture that is emerging in the nineties is an end of the millenium culture that is actually summing up Western civilization and pointing us in an entirely different direction, that we're going to arrive in the third millenium, in the middle of an archaic revival, which will mean a revival of these physiologically empowering rhythm signatures, a new art, a new social vision, a new relationship to nature, to feminism, to ego. All of these things are taking hold, and not a moment too soon.

Terence McKenna Land
The Deoxyribonucleic Hyperdimension

***

Music from the Shamen - Video by Jeffe

I A-M

I am here
Long train
of gold dust
pilded up
by centuries.
Silence surounds
my thoughts.
I have no more thoughts.
No other places
fit me so deliciously.
I am here and
I wait for dawn.
The sun prepare
its glorious evening light
Is it for me ?
Let me believe that...


In a while
I will capture
one more secret...

THE DEATH OF ADAM

I am Adam.
God created me.
I was knowing nothing
about my Creator.
And the day I met my Father,
I betrayed him…

who would say I am a fool ?
As battling against my own reflection,
I dig the ground in search of my roots
and find there only sins of desolation.
So for my penance,
I get isolation to fill
my questioning.

Who do I hear ?
seating by laughing at the corner
of their restricted visions.
That they hear nothing
of the somber shouts the deported souls have.
But I hear those screams
deep in the ground I sink.

At the edge of a disintegrating land
that you will call Paradise,
I fall in emptiness of a brain surgery
Collapsing certitudes of a virgin mind
at the floor of the rusted mankind to come.
I am born of God wishes
but men will grow from my sins.

Humanity, crucify me !
I am the sin father of all of you.
I feel your scathing glance
pointing at me the last judgment
as expiation to the golden meaning's dust.
Crucify me and forget me.

I am Adam,
I am God’ son.
And today,
I die
For men’s multiplication.

LA MORT D'ADAM

Je suis Adam.
Dieu m'a créé.
Je ne savais rien
au sujet de mon créateur.
Et le jour j'ai rencontré mon père,
Je l'ai trahi…

Qui dira que je suis un imbécile ?
Comme luttant contre ma propre réflexion,
Je creuse la terre à la recherche de mes racines
et je n'y trouve seulement que les pêchés de la désolation.
Alors pour ma expiation,
J'obtiens l'isolement pour emplir
mon questionnement.

Qui est-ce que j'entends ?
Assis en riant du coin
de leurs visions restreintes.
Qu'ils n'entendent rien
des cris sombres que les âmes déportées ont.
Mais j'entends ces gémissements
profondément dans le sol que je coule .

Au bord d'une terre en désintégration
que vous appellerez le paradis,
Je tombe dans le vide d'une chirurgie cérébrale
Certitudes s'effondrant d'un esprit vierge
au parterre d'une l'humanité rouillée à venir.
Je suis né des souhaits de Dieu
mais les hommes se répandront de mes péchés.

L'humanité, crucifie-moi !
Je suis le père des péchés de vous tous.
Je sens votre regard virulent
dirigeant vers moi le dernier jugement
comme expiation à la poussière sur la sens d'or.
Crucifie-moi et oublie-moi.





Je suis Adam,
Je suis fils de Dieu.
Et aujourd'hui,
Je meurs
Pour la multiplication des hommes.

The Misunderstanding.

I try to say “Truth” and she hears “liar”
I try to explain but she doesn’t hear anymore.
I try to explain better but she had decided…

Through our words pours two meaning.
One is the expression of our conscious, what we deliberately want to say.
And one, avoided to the most of the people, is the voice of our subconscious.
Psychoanalyst use this second level of words to reveal the subconscious of his patient.
A harmless sentence can reveal much more that a book.

And this is concerning the fifth chakra. VISHUDDHA. The communication.




One important step in our spiritual awaking is to use this channel, the subconscious saying, to come back in our memorized past, identify what is a weight for us, and reveal it. This is our road to our inner peace. No more hided memory that rotes our conscious. What we call trauma stand there, in our subconscious, making us to have nightmare, making us our fears.
Be able to say consciously what our subconscious says through our words is what I call – and not only me – the True Speaking.
And so, by learning how to let our conscious access to our subconscious, we come to a superior level of communication.
By “golden” Hearing.
By “golden” Saying.

Here I am, with my words echoing for nothing, with my empty meaning. My chakra must be closed so I don’t find the Words. We are talking as deaf. I say but she hears somebody else. Who is talking to you that you suddenly don’t hear me anymore? Here I am. The talk is over. We say politely goodnight. Switch off. My head is full of “what do I have made wrong that we came there?”

…

IN MY DREAM.....IN MY DAY....

In my dream, I have thought I could bring you the golden meaning.
In my dream I have thought I could say words that gonna light for you
The secrets I have seen.
In my dream of little man I have thought I could be strong enough to carry mountains and rivers to your feet.
In my thought, I have dreamt I could hold for you the fire ball of the Truth without burning my hands.
In my dream, I did hope I could never fail to always bring you the best.
In my secret faith, I prayed I could be as soon as possible the perfect that you deserve.
In my will, I wished to have the wisdom to always find the Words, those with golden meaning, those which don’t speak to the brain but to the heart, those once said, reveal the whole meaning without demonstrations, those which Say, no talk.
In my smallness, I dreamt I could be that great man I wish I could offer.

Where are my golden words?
I feel muted of my meaning.
Where is this crystal road ?
That always drive me to the correct stream.

In my dream, I was perfect.
In my day, I am just a man…

VISHUDDHA

the fifth chakra

*

Schizophrenia – Part two.

Schizophénie – recevoir au lieu d’envoyer.

Note

Ce que j’appelle schizophrénie n’est pas la maladie mentale à laquelle ce réfère ce mot habituellement. Mais plutôt un ensemble de faits interdépendant qui amène un être à se « fractionner » pour survivre.

Note 2

Je suis un schizophrène sain.

Comme je le dis toujours -mais d’autres l’ont dit bien avant moi et beaucoup mieux-

Nous vivons dans un immense « champ magnétique ». Nous même sommes un champ magnétique. Chacun l’est. Tout l’est.

Plus ou moins « gros » suivant un certains nombre de principes variés tels que notre masse corporelle ou notre harmonie mentale…

Et tous ces champs magnétiques s’influencent les uns les autres.

Comme tous champs magnétiques, notre énergie circule sans cesse. Entre nos deux pôles magnétiques, rencontrant d’autres énergies, également en mouvement.

Certaine personne ont cependant une énergie - champ magnétique – différent de la plus part d’entre nous. Leur constitution énergétique est telle qu’elle semble bien plus étendue, magnétisée, active.

Pourquoi est un autre débat. Mais je dirais cependant, que leurs parcours de vie à fait que leur champs magnétique est devenu très « puissant », peut être même depuis la naissance.

Or cette énergie supérieur à la normale est difficile à assumer.

Depuis tout petit, ne dit quoi, quand, comment, pourquoi, à cet être cherchant à se référer aux autres pour se situer, voir se constituer.

Grosso modo, je dirais que ce serait comme s’habiller avec des vêtements 10 tailles trop petites. On y arrive tant bien que mal, mais ça finit par craquer, déborder, fissurer.

Le réflex est alors de ne s’habiller que par bout. Une veste pour un bras, une autre pour l’autre bras, etc.…

Le fractionnement est là.

Vivant par parcelle une vie trop complexe, trop intense. Des émotions débordant de toutes parts sans personne pour dire, pour aider à les comprendre.

Mais si un être « fractionné » peut aisément survivre dans ce monde, son chemin de vie est bien précaire. Peu suffira pour le faire basculer dans le chaos, éparpillant au loin ses fragments dissociés.

Et un psy ne peut rien pour lui. Sinon l’abrutir de sédatif pour éteindre l’incendie qui

Gronde.

Même – et cela n’engage que moi – un psy est dangereux. Car il apparait comme un dernier espoir. Et sa faillite à comprendre, à donner des solution risque de devenir la faillite de son patient. A méditer.

Non ! Non ! Et NON !

Le désordre n’est pas mental. Le désordre est global, mais pas si grave, une fois identifié.

Je m’en suis sorti tout seul, sans trop de blessures, et j’ai grandi grâce à cela.

Ma schizophrénie latente fut une aubaine pour moi.

Voici pourquoi.

J’ai toujours senti au fond de moi, que ce « trop grand » ne s’habillerait pas au rayon de l’ordinaire.

Créer. Toujours créer. Telle fut mon salut.

Et si un créateur est un artiste, un artiste n’est pas forcement créateur.

Créer est un art de vivre, une obsession. Créer est vital comme l’oxygène l’est à mon corps.

Je crée en permanence. Dans ma tête d’abord.

Cette énergie qui déborde en moi. Je la consume en la retravaillant par mon imaginaire. Je la transforme, la mute en autre chose.

Et peu importe si seulement un dixième de mes créations mentales voient le jour, c’est déjà pas mal.

Mais que se passe t-il ?

Je dirais que la création m’aide à réguler mon flux d’énergie. En consument une part de cette énergie trop grande pour moi, j’en deviens plus léger.

Mais la création me donne aussi des « vêtements » bien mieux adaptés à ma taille.

Les autres diront que je suis un illuminé. Moi je leur réponds que je vais bien, merci.

Depuis notre naissance, nous recevons. Mais peu nous apprennent à émettre.

Notre trop plein d’énergie s’évacue de lui-même.

Sauf pour ceux dont je parle ici.

La création ? j’en parlerai plus tard.

















Schizophrenia - to receive instead of sending.



Note
What I call schizophrenia is not the mental disease to which this word usually refers. But rather an interdependent whole of facts which leads a being “to split” to survive.

Note 2
I am a healthy schizophrenic.



As I always say it - but others said it quite front me and much better - we live in an immense “magnetic field”. We even are a magnetic field. Each one is. All is.
More or less “large” according to a certain number of principles varied such as our body mass or our mental harmony…
And all these magnetic fields influence the ones the others.
Like all magnetic fields, our energy circulates unceasingly. Between our two magnetic poles, meeting other energies, also moving.

Certain person have an energy - magnetic field - however different from the more share among us. Their energy constitution is such as it seems much wider, magnetized, active.

“Why” is another debate. But I would say however, who them course of life have made their magnetic fields to became very “powerful”, can be even since the birth.



However this energy, superior with the normal is difficult to assume.
Since very young, nobody does not say, when, how, why, to this being seeking to refer to the others to self situate, even constituting itself.
Roughly speaking, I would say that it would be like getting dressed with clothing 10 too small sizes. One arrives there after a fashion, but that ends up cracking, overflowing, to fissure.
The reflex is then to get dressed only by parts. A jacket for an arm, another for the other arm, etc….
Fractionation is there.
Living by piece a too complex, too intense life. Emotions overflowing of all shares without anybody to say, help to include/understand them.

But if a “splinted being” can easily survive in this world, its way of life is quite precarious. A little will be enough to make it rock in chaos, scattering with far its dissociated fragments.

And a psychiatrist cannot help. If not to numb it of sedative to extinguish the fire which thunder.
Even - and that does not engage that me - a psychiatrist is dangerous. Because it seems a last hope. And its bankruptcy to include/understand, to give solution, is likely to become the bankruptcy of its patient. To be meditated.

Not! Not! And NOT!

The disorder is not mental. The disorder is global, but no serious, once identified.


I went out on my own, without too many wounds, and I grew thanks to that.
My latent schizophrenia was a godsend for me.
Here’s why.

I always felt deep inside that this “too large” would not get dressed at the normal dressing stair.

To create. To always create. Such was my safety.
And if a creator is an artist, an artist is not necessary a creator.
To create is an art of living, an obsession. To create is vital as oxygen is with my body.
I create permanently. In my head initially.
This energy which overflows in me. I consume it by working it over again by my imaginary. I transform it, transfers it in another form.
And it does not matter if only one tenth of my mental creations comes to reality, it is already not so bad.

But what does it occur?
I would say that creation helps me to control my flow of energy. In consume a share of this too large energy for me, I become lighter about it.
But creation gives me also the “clothing” better well adapted to my size.

The others will say that I am one illuminated. Me to answer them that I am well, thank you.

Since our birth, we receive. But little learns how to us to emit.
Our too full with energy evacuates itself.
Except for those about who I speak here.

Creation? I will speak about it later.

… to be continted.

One life's corridor

Where are they, where are we ?
A woman crossing the empty space
Of a life time targeted to find her…
Where I stood were hollowed silhouettes
Taking the helm of one corridor.
A woman that bares magnets of unspeakable,
The ruins of ancient believes
Unable for life discrimination.
But from this seems like a devastated land
The seed of a new rainbow,
Wearing child at its teeth,
As a tiger mother that finally
Comes to the caring hand.
What kind of promises
Can I make to her
That will water the seed ?
Watering but not flooding
A land for so much long
Irrigated of acid thoughts.
How to destroy the fascination
Of a false older vision.
The woman that saves my life
Through me wish to see
The forwarding footsteps.
How to be crystal clear
To let appear that horizon
Without putting in
My on seasons ?
A woman, crossing my corridor,
Took a turn,
And walked with me…
To what one man have called
Salvation.

T.H.E....A.N.G.E.R

MY ANGER




Here is my confession.
Since I was young, very young, I lived with anger.
At that time, my anger made me to be an angry boy. Very violent. Very rebelled.
What was this anger ???
It was floating in me as an ocean where the world, the others, my parents were wanting me to sail on.
But me not !
My ocean was different.
What was my ocean made of ???
My ocean was more delicate, timid, fragile.
A breath of contradiction, and I was exploding in a furious anger, making me to fight with who were there.
Chaotic boy, I was.
Sensible inside, rough outside.

With time, this anger never left me, in spite of my tries to be a normal gentle boy.

No way. I took a guitar, and played it loud, so loudly that the heavy metal fans were flying away, not understanding what kind of hurricane was swallowing them…


And my anger against this so mean world was so powerfully expressed on stage that it was as an hypnotic possession.

And then, I went to be two.

Two Jeffe in the same body.
One fragile inside.
One powerfully aggressive outside.

A total rebel.

Découvrez Intérieur!

And then I went to be unified.

A strange personage jumped out the mist and went to my rescue.

And he told me.

“Your anger is rightful. But your fragility too. Stop being in war between those two poles of you, coz you are both. By wanting to chose one of your side, you navigate between the good and bad, between the top and the bottom. That gives you the feeling to do not exist. And you don’t. you are floating in yourself as a wanderer looking some food. One side feeds you for today, but starves you for tomorrow. Only by accepting your two sides to be your whole self, you will be filled forever.
Why ?
Your anger is an endless source of power. Transform it in creativity. Don’t care if it looks dark or luminous, it will go its own way.
And your fragility gonna makes your anger still active.
So the circle is complete. Each side of you in. Each at its place. Each side playing its role in your brightness.

The wise man is not without anger ! But he learned how to transform it in good.”


So I went to be one.

My anger found its place in my harmony. I used it to have the power to do my good side.
My anger did protected my fragility against the scoffer, the abuser, the liar, the bad.



And then, I spoke to my angel.

“Angel of mine, I am you now, and you are me the same.
Let’s travel this world with no more fear, no more apprehension but with this brand new light, born from our unification.
Let’s be this Angel we both dreamt of…”

To the one who actualy wonder what happen to her...

+

ONE EARLY MORNING COFFEE

Saturday night - 2:00 AM

I awake suddenly. A sound did took me off my sleep. Vini, my dog, is trying to vomit. It is so violent that I get up directly, knowing that something is not normal.
Down stair, I see her moving everywhere. She is abnormally agitated.
No doubt. This is the first symptom of a stomach twisting.
In one or two hours, she gonna be dead.

Saturday night - 2:15 AM

Immediately, I give her some sodium bicarbonate.
I don’t know it, but I save her life there.
But I don’t know it.
Some belly massage to relax her anxiety. No way. I call the veterinary in charge.
“Come quickly !”

Saturday night - 2:30 AM

I drive my broken car I normally don’t use anymore. No choice.
The doc is there, waiting for me.
Vivi on the table. I get the diagnostic fast. It was one stomach twisting but the bicarbonate did act efficiently.

Saturday night – 2:55 AM

Phew ! No damage ! Vini get more quiet. She sniff out anywhere, and very interested by the caged birds ! She’s back to normal.
This fucking sickness makes the dog die with horrible pains. I’ve seen her mother dying from it. Never again !

Saturday night – 3:15 AM

We are back home. Vini sleeps directly. The injection makes her KO.
So I can have my first early morning coffee….


Thanks God !